


The Unvarying Princess

by Mareeswan



Series: House of Swans [2]
Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-19
Updated: 2011-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-21 13:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 40,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareeswan/pseuds/Mareeswan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 2: House of Swans Series. Being the eldest child of Adrahil, Ivriniel faces many tough responsibilities. Despite the growing fear of Mordor, Ivriniel finds love from the last person she expected, while Finduilas is swept away to Minas Tirith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Aquaintance

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second part of the series about the Royal family of Dol Amroth. It is focused around Ivriniel, daughter of Prince Adrahil, and sister to Finduilas and Imrahil. For those who have read, 'Memoirs of a Princess', you will have further enlightenment into the relationship between Finduilas and Lord Agoron.
> 
> Since I have never read a story concerning Ivriniel, I thought I would like to give her a place in this large world of fanfiction.

Dol Amroth: September 2974

Autumn

The wind was crisp as it streaked leaves through the streets of Dol Amroth. Ivriniel, Princess of Dol Amroth watched as the auburn-coloured leaves landed in front of her. It was her favourite time of year. She loved the changing colours of the forestry surrounding the great city. The air was more crisp and brought about a fresh, renewing sensation that cleared your lungs of the sweaty breath of summer.

In the distance, Ivriniel could see her little sister, Finduilas talking to one of the stall owners in the market square. Finduilas was three years her sister's junior, being twenty-four summers. Ivriniel adored her sister, thinking Finduilas to be the joy in her world.

"Sister," Finduilas called, waving her sister over, "you must see these!"

Ivriniel smiled and walked over to the stall. She saw all kinds of jewels laid out on the table. "These are beautiful," she said, picking up a set of square-cut ruby earrings. She placed them in front of her right ear. "How do they look?"

Finduilas grinned. "They look fit for a princess."

The sisters giggled. "I shall purchase them," she informed the stall owner.

"I prefer sapphires," Finduilas said, picking up a large sapphire brooch. "This would look lovely on the bodice of my new gown."

"It most certainly would," Ivriniel replied. "You should buy it."

"I shall," Finduilas said happily.

"You know," Ivriniel said, tucking her sister's arm into her's, "our father spoils us."

Finduilas laughed. "He has every right to. He adores us."

Ivriniel grinned. "Come; let us return to the palace."

"No!" Finduilas said, stopping in her tracks. "They day is still early. Let us get something to eat."

Ivriniel sighed, but smiled, agreeing. "If only you did not have such a hold over me."

Finduilas giggled. "Let us go over to the little shop that serves fresh seafood. I have been dying to try their food."

The shop was located across from the busy port that dealt with trading from Minas Tirith. Seagulls flew above them, trying to catch a loose fish that had managed to escape the fishing nets. Fishing vessels bobbed at the dock, while their owners prepared to sail out once more. Ivriniel loved sailing. It was a love she had inherited from her father, Prince Adrahil.

The sisters entered the shop and found the front room set out like a tavern. Several groups of people were sitting at the tables, talking merrily amongst each other. The princesses were acknowledged with joyous greetings and well wishes. The owner came over to them and bowed deeply.

"Welcome," he said a little nervously. "My name is Camaenor, and this is my wife, Maeves." He pointed to a middle-aged woman standing behind the counter drying dishes.

"Greetings, Camaenor," Ivriniel said politely. "May my sister and I take our midday meal here?"

"Oh, most certainly," Camaenor replied. "My wife and I would be honoured."

The sisters were led to a square table by a large, open window overlooking the port. "This is lovely," Ivriniel said to Finduilas. "I am glad you suggested this."

Finduilas poured herself some water. "It is nice to get out of the palace and mix with the commons."

Ivriniel nodded in agreement. "Yes." She watched her sister stare out the window. "Who are you staring at?"

Finduilas blushed deeply. "You know who."

Ivriniel grinned and looked out the window. She saw him – Lord Agoron. He was the commander of the Swan Fleet, and their brother's best friend. "He is in love with you."

Finduilas looked at her sister incredulously. "Impossible."

Ivriniel rolled her eyes. Her sister had a tendency to be oblivious to things right in front of her. "Yes, he is. He confessed everything to me."

Finduilas sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. "When?"

"Two days ago," she replied. "I met him while he was visiting Imrahil. When father called our brother away, I spoke to Agoron about you. He said he cannot stop thinking of you."

Finduilas blushed once more and looked out the window. "Then why did he not come and speak to me about his feelings?"

"You know very well why," Ivriniel replied. "Father would not be very keen on the match."

"Lord Agoron is of noble birth," Finduilas replied.

Ivriniel nodded. "I know. I just do not see father allowing such a union."

Finduilas sighed. "I want to meet him."

Ivriniel eyed her little sister. "Do not do anything reckless that could taint your honour."

Finduilas scoffed at her remark. "Oh, please."

Camaenor came over to them and placed two large platters filled with seafood in front of them both. "Here you go, my ladies," he said. "Is there anything else I can be of service to?"

Ivriniel shook her head. "No, thank you."

Camaenor bowed and left them.

"Such a nice man," Finduilas remarked, watching the man leave. "We should come here more often."

"Yes," Ivriniel replied. "We should notify our brother about this place."

"He already knows about it," Finduilas replied, eating a prawn. "He was the one who told me about it. He comes here with Agoron and his other fellow friends."

"Oh," Ivriniel said, gently slapping her sisters on the arm. "So that is why you wanted to come here."

Finduilas glared at her. "Do not tease me, sister. One day, you are going to fall in love also."

Ivriniel's eyes widened. "You... love him?"

Finduilas stopped eating and sighed deeply. "I-I don't know. Possibly. I have never felt this way before. Whenever I am with Agoron, it feels like nothing else in the world exists. I feel like I can do whatever I want and nobody is going to care. He makes me laugh and goes out of his way to make sure I have everything I want."

Ivriniel smiled warmly. "He is a wonderful man, and respected by our father."

"Do you think Father would ever allow Agoron to court me?" Finduilas asked hopefully.

Ivriniel shrugged her shoulders. "I honestly do not know. Father does love you, and he does want his children to be happy."

Finduilas nodded. "Perhaps I should talk to Agoron before I go to Father."

Ivriniel nodded. "Definitely."

...

It was when they left the shop to head back to the palace that Ivriniel noticed him. He was standing at the dock, watching the sea. His hair was dark brown, and his stance was that of a man born into nobility. By the way he stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his piercing gaze at the ocean, Ivriniel did not think he would notice her.

And why should I care? she thought to herself. Still, she stood several meters away from him, watching his serene expression.

"Whatever are you looking at?" Finduilas asked, coming up to her sister's side.

Ivriniel tore her gaze away from him and faced her sister. "You go ahead back to the palace. Tell father that I shall return shortly."

"Where are you going?" Finduilas asked curiously.

"To talk to this man," she replied distantly.

Finduilas frowned, but decided best not to interrupt whatever it was her sister had in mind.

Ivriniel walked over to him hesitantly. "Do I know you?" she asked bravely.

The man turned his gaze to her. "I do not believe so, my lady," he replied, turning his full body towards her.

"You look... familiar," she continued.

"I am Lord Losdir of Pinnath Gelin," he replied. "I have come to Dol Amroth to be in the service of your grandfather, Prince Angelimir."

"Of course," Ivriniel said, remembering where she had seen him. "I saw you being knight by my grandfather several days ago."

Losdir smiled. "Yes, my lady."

"Why do you wish to be in service to my grandfather?" she asked curiously. "Surely your father, Lord Hirluin has men of his own."

Losdir smiled distantly and turned his gaze towards the sea. "I have longed for an adventure. My home is peaceful. We have next to no disturbances from the enemy, and my father deems me a worthy knight of our great realm. He wrote to Prince Angelimir, praising my skills as a soldier. Your grandfather replied, seeking my presence. When I arrived here, he watched me being tested, and then knighted me."

Ivriniel nodded. "An interesting tale, Lord Losdir. I have never been to Pinnath Gelin."

Losdir chuckled. "Few have."

"So, how are you enjoying Dol Amroth?" she asked.

Losdir gestured her over to a table to sit at. "Honestly, I have never seen such beauty." He turned back towards the sea. "I have never seen such changing element. The sea is a radiance that seems to capture even the strongest of hearts."

Ivriniel watched the man before her in wonder. He spoke from the heart; something few of the men she knew did. Her brother, Imrahil never did such a thing. However, he was still a very, very young man of nineteen.

"From your words I presume you intend on staying here," Ivriniel said, with a twinkle in her eyes.

Losdir faced her once more and grinned. "Dol Amroth seems to have much to offer for me. Not only the breathtaking neighbour the city has, but I have also been giving the honour of serving under Prince Angelimir."

Ivriniel smiled. "My grandfather is a good man. All are proud to serve him."

"Your father, Prince Adrahil is also an honorary man. I have had the pleasure of meeting his acquaintance at my knighting."

"Have you met my brother, Prince Imrahil?" she queried.

Losdir nodded. "I have. He too, is an honourable man also. They all are."

Ivriniel grinned. "My family are kind rulers. The people of Belfalas have always been grateful for our empathy concerning the Corsairs of Umbar."

Losdir's face darkened. "I have heard tales of the destruction the Corsairs have caused over the years."

Ivriniel sighed. "Yes. It has been difficult, but we refuse to live under their shadow."

"I have been commanded to patrol the outskirts of Dol Amroth," Losdir said. "I will be serving under Captain Alagosson. My main duty will be to scout any areas that are potential targets for land raiding parties."

"It sounds rather dangerous," Ivriniel commented. "Though, all tasks concerning the defence of this realm appear dangerous to me."

"It is a burden men in this lifetime must endure," Losdir remarked. "You should consider yourself lucky to be able to live a life of luxury. You have no idea how sheltered you are."

Ivriniel stiffened a bit. "My grandfather and father keep me informed of the fiefdom's political status. My mother however, is in charge of running the palace. She keeps me on my toes doing tasks for her, but I assure you, when I am committing myself to serving this land, I am in any condition other than luxury."

Losdir bowed his head. "My apologies, my lady. I have spoken of matters I know little of."

"Surely your mother is in a similar position as mine," she said, raising her eyebrow.

Losdir lowered his eyes. "My mother, Lady Erynel passed away last winter. The season bought an illness with it. Many of my father's people suffered because of it."

Ivriniel's eyes widened. "Oh, my lord, I am so sorry. Forgive me. If I had known..."

"You did not," Losdir replied gently. "You made an honest mistake. You have nothing to apologise for."

Ivriniel gazed into his eyes. "I rather enjoy your company. You are easy to talk to, in fact, I find you far easier to talk to than my brother!"

Losdir laughed at her remark. "My lady, you give me too much credit."

"Not at all," she answered, smiling warmly. "My grandfather is holding a small gathering with the court this evening. Shall you be attending?"

Losdir nodded. "I shall be. All the new Swan Knights are expected to."

"Of course they are!" she exclaimed. "How could I have forgotten that tradition?"

Losdir smiled and stood up. "Shall I escort you back to the palace?"

Standing up also, Ivriniel shook her head. "There is no need, I know my way back."

"Should you not have an escort?" he asked. "A princess should not wander alone."

She hesitated. "Very well, you may escort me back."

Losdir allowed her to walk ahead of him, as was custom for a knight to do so when escorting any family member of nobility. Nevertheless, Ivriniel turned her head to look at him, frowning. "There is no need to follow my trail. You are of noble birth also."

Losdir shook his head. "I would prefer to walk two paces behind. It is common courtesy, my lady."

She frowned once more, but nodded. He was so... thoughtful, she thought, trying to figure out the right word to describe him. He was well presented and had very polite manners. What she liked most about him was that he was able to hold himself in a conversation. Better yet, he was not listing all his 'wonderful' qualities and 'amazing' voyages, as did many of the noble gentlemen of the court. Most men thought that only women were the ones listing their qualities, trying to make advantageous marriages. Valar, had they misjudged the whole aspect of court life.

They walked in silence the whole way, causing nobody to look twice at them both. She presumed that was for the best. She did not want any ridiculous rumours spreading about her. The four guards at the front palace gates saluted the princess, before two of them opened the great gates leading into the palace's front courtyard.

Losdir stopped at the gate, bowing before Ivriniel. "This is where I take my leave. The sun sets in a few hours, and I do not wish to be late for the evening gathering."

Ivriniel nodded, but felt a small wave of disappointed flow through her body. She did not want him to leave. But why? she asked herself. "I understand," she answered, offering her hand for him to kiss. "It was a pleasure making your acquaintance, Lord Losdir of Pinnath Gelin."

Losdir bowed his head before swiftly turning on his heels and leaving down a laneway leading to the knights' lodgings. Ivriniel watched him depart until he was out of sight. She bit her bottom lip, and fidgeted with her hands.

"Is everything all right, my lady?" the closest guard to her asked.

Startled, she turned to him. "Yes, everything is fine. Thank you for your concern." She turned around and walked into the front courtyard, thinking of what gown she could wear. She had been planning to present herself to the court in a simple, light blue gown. However, circumstances seemed to have swayed her mind. Was she trying to catch his attention? she wondered. Never! She knew he would come and speak to her again. They had left on good terms. Still, there was that lovely deep blue gown, trimmed with silver hanging in the wardrobe. Ivriniel smiled to herself. She could not wait to tell Finduilas about him.

...

The evening came slowly for Ivriniel, yet there she was, standing a few feet away from the palace hall's entrance. She was wearing her deep blue gown and new dancing shoes. She stared into the hall, trying to catch a glimpse of Lord Losdir. The doorway's curtains had been drawn back, yet the two knights standing guard, blocked her view. She crossed her arms, feeling herself become agitated. She did not want to walk into the hall, only to be introduced to a nobleman who would drag her into a pointless conversation about his lands, or the newest 'important' friends he had recently made.

"Come, come!" Finduilas said, hooking her arms into her sister's. "I thought you would already be in there."

Ivriniel sighed. Finduilas had practically screamed the palace down when she had told her little sister that she had met someone who had sparked an interest. "Why are you always so full of life?"

Finduilas looked up at her sister dreamily. "My life is complete," she said, resting her head on Ivriniel's shoulder. "The sea completes me. You know how much I love this land. I cannot bear being away from the shoreline for more than a week! Now, I have also found a man worthy to share my love."

Ivriniel smiled and took her arm out of her sister's. "You should not speak of such things, not yet anyway. You must speak to father about this matter beforehand."

Finduilas nodded obediently. "Yes, sister."

They sisters walked into the hall, where they were introduced. "Princess Ivriniel and Princess Finduilas of the House of Dol Amroth!"

"Do not leave me yet," Ivriniel said, snatching her sister's hand. "Not until I have found him."

Finduilas started fidgeting, having spotted Agoron talking merrily with Imrahil and another knight. "What does he look like?" she asked.

"Long, dark brown hair," Ivriniel answered, scanning the crowd. "A little bit shorter than our father, but has a proud stance."

"Oh please," Finduilas said wearily. "Half the men of this court match that description!"

Ivriniel giggled. "Go on then," she said, nudging Finduilas towards where Agoron stood. "Go and have fun, but do not do anything foolish."

Finduilas grinned and kissed her sister's cheek. "You have no idea how much I appreciate your understanding."

Not long after her sister had left, Ivriniel found Losdir standing out on an alcove, watching the waves crash against the seawall. She approached him quietly, not wanting to disturb his serenity.

He turned, seeing her dressed elegantly. "My lady," he said, bowing, "you look... beautiful."

Ivriniel blushed. "Thank you, my lord." She saw he was wearing the ceremonial outfit of a Swan Knight. "The colour suits you," she remarked, referring to the shades of blue.

Losdir grinned. "A colour I am not yet used to. The people in Pinnath Gelin wear mostly shades of green and other natural colours that you would find out in the wilderness."

"I may not have been to Pinnath Gelin, but I have heard that your father rules a land where the people life in a rather sophisticated life, despite being rather isolated from the rest of Gondor," she replied, leaning on the railing.

Losdir nodded. "My father tries very hard to keep the upstanding tradition of Gondor active in his lands. It is hard, as you have said – we are isolated from the rest of Gondor. Nevertheless, the people there do enjoy learning lore. We have just recently built a library."

Ivriniel raised her eyebrows. "Truly?"

"Yes," he replied, smiling proudly. "It is not large, but it is sufficed. We have only several copies of the great books of our realm. We are petitioning to the Steward, requesting more copies on the history of our people."

"I am sure Lord Ecthelion will grant your peoples request," Ivriniel replied. "His son, Lord Denethor is known to be a man of lore himself."

"So I have heard," Losdir said, gazing at the moon that twinkled above the sea. "I have desired to see the City of Kings. It has been an aspiration of my father's for many, many years. He knows his duties will never allow him to leave Pinnath Gelin, so I intend of making the journey on his behalf."

"That is very generous of you," she said, running her fingers across the railing. "When do you intend of leaving?"

Losdir turned to look at her. "Not for a long time. My duties have me here for quite a while."

Ivriniel look up at him. "When do you leave for your first patrol?"

"Two days time," he replied proudly. "I am most eager to start my service."

Ivriniel nodded and turned her gaze to the sea. "I have only met you today, but it feels I have known you far longer. Do you have this affect on all the people you meet?"

Losdir chuckled softly. "I have a way with people."

"Yet you must have some flaws?" she asked, standing up straight. "Nobody is perfect." She placed her hands on her hips and took a step closer to him. "Tell me, my lord, what are your flaws?"

Losdir raised his eyebrows, bewildered. "I... uh. Well... I am not very good at keeping secrets."

Ivriniel laughed. "Truly? Well I am glad you informed me."

Losdir blushed deeply. "My older brother hates me for it. As we are the only children of our parents, he used to confide in me, though I would always end up telling our father."

"Why can you not keep secrets?" she asked, amused.

Losdir shrugged. "I honestly do not know, my lady. I suppose I have times where I do not think before I open my mouth. At times, I regret what I do, but other times it eludes me."

"Well, that is understandable," Ivriniel replied. "As I have said, nobody is perfect."

A ringing was heard from within the hall. Prince Angelimir was standing at the dais with his son beside him.

"I must depart," Ivriniel said. "My grandfather is about to make a speech, and I would hate to miss it."

Losdir nodded. "It was nice seeing you again, Lady Ivriniel."

Ivriniel smiled warmly at him. "My feelings stand the same as yours, my lord."

That night, as Ivriniel lay, tucked into her nice, warm bed, she could not help but think of a certain lord she had made acquaintances. He was kind, yet he admitted to his flaws. That was something so few noble lords would do, especially in front of a princess! She did not know how she expected her meetings with Losdir would turn in to. What she did know, was that she had at least made a new friend within the circles of the court. For one night's work, it was well done!


	2. Many Meetings in the Swan Palace

Dol Amroth: October 2974

Autumn

Ivriniel paced her antechamber, biting her fingernails. Finduilas had been making her anxious during the past weeks with her infatuation towards Lord Agoron. Even though her sister had claimed to be in love with this dashing man, Ivriniel could not believe it to be anything more than maidenly behaviour. Ivriniel knew this was certain, for she herself was going through the exact same thing. It had been a little under a month since she had met Lord Losdir, and yet he continued to enter her mind on a daily basis. She did not fancy herself to be in love with him; he just fascinated her.

Finduilas flung open the door and slammed it shut behind her. "I have just spoken with father," she said, flopping into a chair. "I have told him I have feelings for Lord Agoron."

Ivriniel frowned, becoming quite alarmed. "You fool!" she hissed. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I cannot continue seeing him in secret," Finduilas said, rising from the chair. "I hate secrecy!"

Ivriniel crossed her arms. "What did father say?"

"Well, he and Mother were quite surprised by my confession," she said, smiling. "If it were not for Mother having a soothing presence over our father, I believe it could have been a lot worse."

"Is Father going to banish Lord Agoron?" Ivriniel queried.

"Valar, no!" Finduilas said. "Father admitted he wished I could have chosen a higher nobleman than Lord Agoron, but he knows Agoron to be an honourable and sensible man to court his youngest daughter."

Ivriniel nodded. "You are very fortunate, Finduilas. This whole matter could have become a lot worse, especially for Lord Agoron."

"I know," Finduilas said, sighing. "You have no idea how much he makes me happy. Lord Losdir makes you happy, does he not?"

Ivriniel blushed at his name. "I am not in love with him, and the last thing I would do is march into Father's study and declare myself in love."

Finduilas giggled. "You and Lord Losdir would make an adorable match!"

"Oh, hush!" she said, folding her arms. "Stop speaking such nonsense."

"You spend a lot of time with him," Finduilas continued, walking over to the window. "He is of noble birth."

"I do not believe he shall remain in Dol Amroth," Ivriniel said. "He has plans to travel to Minas Tirith."

"People travel all the time," Finduilas replied. "I am sure he would return to our city eventually."

Ivriniel sat down and placed her hands on her lap. "That does not change my feelings towards the whole situation."

Finduilas sat down opposite her sister. "You have always been the more serene and insightful sister. Can you not grant yourself happiness?"

"I admit Lord Losdir is a kind and gently nobleman," Ivriniel answered, "but his status here in Dol Amroth is nothing more than a Swan Knight."

"He is still a Lord no matter where he travels in Gondor," Finduilas stated. "Are you afraid Father would not allow such a union?"

"I believe Father would be open to such a union," Ivriniel answered. "I still have not yet decided." She stood up and started pacing the room once more. "I am so confused!" She turned to her sister. "I am not romantic as you are."

Finduilas chuckled softly. "Sweet, dear sister. You do not need to be romantic to fall in love."

"Your statement does not ease my mind," she replied, slumping into a chair. "I have always believed that one day I would marry and produce many children. It is something that I do want in this lifetime."

Finduilas nodded, staring at her sister with empathy. "You could not have worded that any better, sweet sister of mine. I want a life full of joy and love from he who I end up marrying. I am also keen on starting a family. I want a life filled with the laughter of children."

"Do you honestly believe Lord Agoron is the man you are destined to be married to?" Ivriniel asked her sister curiously.

"I do so believe, with all my heart," Finduilas replied. "He completes me."

Ivriniel faintly smiled. "Then I am happy for you."

...

Two days later, Ivriniel found herself standing out in the front palace courtyard with her family. They were expecting Lord Tarondor of Linhir and his younger brother, Lord Toven. Lord Tarondor was a young man of thirty-one to inherit Lordship. His father had died suddenly during the winter. It was an ailment that many people caught, leaving few survivors.

Swan Knights lined the pathway leading through the middle of the courtyard, standing at attention. Ivriniel was always marvelled at how disciplined her grandfather's men were.

Lord Tarondor strolled through the great grates with his brother trailing behind. Both men were very attractive, having the same dark-blue coloured eyes and long, dark-brown hair, falling just below their shoulders. It was a shame, Ivriniel thought; both men were married and sired children.

"Welcome," Prince Angelimir, said, stepping down the stairs. "It has been far too long, my friends."

Tarondor grinned and bowed before his Prince, his younger brother following his action. "My lord, Prince Angelimir, it is wonderful to see you again!" He turned to the man standing next to the Lord of Belfalas. "Prince Adrahil," he said, bowing his head in respect. "I trust your wife is in good health?"

Ivriniel's father nodded. "Lady Anneth is in good health overall, besides having a small ailment these past few days."

"I am sorry to hear that," Tarondor replied solemnly. "Send her my warm wishes for a quick recovery."

Adrahil smiled and placed his hand on Imrahil's shoulder. "This is my boy, Prince Imrahil."

Tarondor raised his eyebrows. "You were just a young lad the last we met."

Imrahil grinned. "Your visit has been a long time coming."

"Indeed," Tarondor replied. "I apologies for my delay; my wife is once more heavy with-child."

"Truly?" Angelimir asked, surprised. "It was not long ago that I received word that she had just delivered."

"Yes, she did," he replied, grinning. "She delivered a boy; our third son. We are hoping for a second daughter this time round."

Angelimir chuckled. "Send her my best wishes for a safe delivery."

Tarondor bowed. "I thank you."

"And is this your younger brother, Lord Toven?" Angelimir asked, looking at the shorter man behind Tarondor.

Toven stepped forward and bowed. "My lord Prince," he said. "It is an honour to be in your presence once more."

Angelimir smiled at the compliment. "Come; let us withdraw to the west-wing of the palace. I have just recently had it renovated."

The palace of Dol Amroth was large; some said that is was larger than the palace in Minas Tirith. The whole of Dol Amroth was made out of the same shinning, white stone, and marble as Minas Tirith and Osgiliath. The 'Swan Palace', as it was called by many of the people of Belfalas consisted of eight, lavishly built apartments, a great hall for entertaining, guest quarters, and a throne room that had six exquisitely carved columns. The great hall had the founding of Dol Amroth carved into the walls, with the banners of the current Prince of Dol Amroth hanging from the ceiling. It was truly a spectacular place to visit.

Prince Angelimir had a love for architecture. It was one of his passions, which he had passed down to his son, Adrahil. Both father and son had sat down in the study and drawn up plans to renovate the older sections of the palace. This consisted of the west and south-wing of the palace. Both wings had breathtaking views of the oceans, making them the most favourite wings of the palace.

Ivriniel walked with Finduilas into the large reception room that gave a wonderful view of the harbour below through a large, open alcove. The sisters sat down together and made pleasant conversation with their guests. The day drew on, and Ivriniel became restless. Her grandfather had a habit of talking ceaselessly; he had good intentions. Ivriniel shared a smile with Imrahil across the room; their grandfather was now dragging them all into a conversation about the trade between Linhir and Dol Amroth. The trade was strong, but the taxes were rising rather high in the event of the Dark Lord rising and wreaking havoc along the coastline.

Finally, as the sun started to lower itself in the sky, everyone was permitted to retire to his or her respective chambers to freshen up for the evening meal. Ivriniel walked out into the alcove in her antechamber. She breathed in the fresh air, smiling; it was going to be a beautiful evening. She looked below the railing and saw a company of Swan Knight trotting through the stone street, heading towards the palace. She narrowed her eyes, trying to get a better look. She knew Losdir had been on patrol with Captain Alagosson, and he was due to return any day now. Hoping that today was the day, Ivriniel grabbed her cloak and headed down to the throne room.

Captain Alagosson was standing before her grandfather, discussing events that had occurred during the patrol. Ivriniel spotted Losdir, standing at attention with another knight behind his captain. She stepped out of the back entrance and walked up to her grandfather.

"Ah," he said, gesturing his granddaughter over.

"Grandfather Prince," she said sweetly, accepting his hand and kissing it. "How goes the patrol?"

"Rather well," Alagosson said, bowing his head. "I trust your Ladyship is in good health?"

Ivriniel smiled. "I am most certainly."

"I have invited Captain Alagosson to the evening meal," her grandfather said, acknowledging the man before him. "He is an old acquaintance of the Linhir brothers."

"Then you have returned in perfect time," Ivriniel remarked to the captain. "You must be eager to be in their company once more."

Alagosson nodded. "Indeed, I am. It has been far too long. We have kept in contact through letters, but alas, it is not the same."

Ivriniel's eyes moved over to where Losdir was standing. "Is that Lord Losdir of Pinnath Gelin?" she asked.

"It is," Alagosson replied, gesturing for the young Lord to step up. "I did not know you are in acquaintance to the young princess?"

Losdir bowed before the royal members. "I met the princess last month after I had just been knighted."

"We met at the port," Ivriniel added, "after Finduilas and I had lunch."

Angelimir nodded slowly, and then turned to Losdir. "How goes your father?"

"He is well," Losdir replied. "After the... death of my mother, his mood has become sombre, but he will not allow it to stray him away from his duties."

Angelimir nodded again, but sadly. "I was deeply saddened when word reached my ears of the death of Lady Erynel. She was remarked as a graceful lady, fully deserving of all compliments."

"Yes," Losdir replied, lowering his eyes. "It was an unnecessary tragedy."

Angelimir placed his hand on the young knight's shoulder. "You must attend this evening's meal. I will have it no other way." Losdir opened his mouth to politely refused, but the Prince of Dol Amroth placed his hand in front of him. "You are a Lord's son of Gondor. You are always welcome at my table."

Losdir bowed. "I thank you for your generosity, my prince."

Angelimir smiled, turning to his daughter. "I need to speak with you in my study."

Ivriniel nodded. "Of course, grandfather." After he dismissed Alagosson and Losdir, Ivriniel followed him into his study. He sat down in his large chair behind the desk.

"Sit, my dear," he said, gesturing towards a seat.

Ivriniel obeyed. "Grandfather, may I ask what this is about?"

Angelimir sat back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. "I have spoken to your father and mother concerning Finduilas."

Ivriniel pressed her lips together, wondering what the next words were going to be out of his mouth.

"Your father has informed me that Finduilas has grown a certain infatuation towards my Admiral of the Fleet."

"N-no, grandfather," Ivriniel stuttered. "It is no mere infatuation. Finduilas is indeed in love with him."

Angelimir frowned. "How can you be so sure?"

"It is quite easy to tell, grandfather," she answered. "If you would only see the way Finduilas' eyes light up whenever you mention Lord Agoron's name; the way she speaks of him, always shows a fondness in her voice. Do not think ill of the Admiral; he is a man worthy of Finduilas' affections."

Angelimir sighed heavily and sat forward placing his hands on the desk. "I have always had the greatest respect for Lord Agoron; I always will. My concern is that Finduilas may become carried away with these feelings. You know how she reacts to those she loves. Her admiration for the sea has made her boldly state that she would never leave Dol Amroth for a long period. Your father intends to have a talk with Lord Agoron concerning Finduilas before this whole situation can progress any further."

"Progress any further," Ivriniel repeated. "What do you speak of?"

Angelimir smiled with a twinkle in his eyes. "My dearest, if two people are in love, then usually they unite their love through marriage."

Ivriniel's eyes widened. "You would allow them to wed?"

Angelimir nodded. "Through certain conditions - yes. Your father agrees with my thoughts, but your mother has her doubts; mostly due to Finduilas beings her youngest daughter."

Ivriniel nodded at that statement. She shared her mother's doubts, whatever they may be.

"Nevertheless," Angelimir continued, "I desire nothing more that to see you and Finduilas married to men worthy of your affections. If Lord Agoron is such a man, then I will allow him to wed your sister."

"You are very thoughtful, grandfather," she replied, smiling.

"Well, since that is settled," Angelimir said, standing up. "I have invited Lord Agoron to dine with us in two days time, after your father has had a chance to speak with him. I would appreciate it if you keep Finduilas away from him until then."

Ivriniel nodded again. "That shall not be a problem, grandfather." She walked over to him and kissed his cheek. "I will see you this evening."

"Bless you, dearest child," he said warmly. "I hope one day you will also find love."

She lowered her eyes and smiled. "May I speak plainly?"

"I hope so," he answered.

Ivriniel grinned. "I will only say this to you, for I am not yet certain of my true feelings." She hesitated before continuing. "I have a growing... fondness for Lord Losdir. I have just met him, but he is such a gentleman; I admire that for a man of the court. He wishes no personal gain from my friendship, and for that I am grateful."

Her grandfather's eyes widened slightly. "Dearest, I had no idea. You do very well at hiding your feelings."

"Like I have said," she continued, sheepishly, "I have only just met him, and I do not know how this fondness I have for him shall progress."

He nodded. "I understand. I shall keep this to myself, until you have spoken to me further on the matter."

"Thank you, grandfather," she said, gratefully. "I knew I could trust you."

...

Ivriniel sat at the long dining table in the great hall. As she had predicted, the weather proved a evening lovely. It was autumn, and a coming winter breeze gently flowed through the hall, causing the flames of the torches and candles to flicker. Ivriniel was sitting next to her mother, and across from Finduilas. Her mother's face was pale from the ailment she was suffering. Her father had said earlier that her ailment was only minor, but the family knew better. Her mother had been suffering for many weeks now. She had pains in her breast, causing her to grasp her chest and breathe heavily. It pained her husband and children to see her suffer, but she was determined to make public appearances as often as she could.

Further down the table, Losdir was sitting across from Alagosson, talking merrily with Lord Toven. Ivriniel smiled to herself; she was hoping to have a private conversation with Losdir later in the evening, to ask him how his first patrol went.

"Lady Anneth," Tarondor said, "I am glad to see your health has improved."

Adrahil took a deep drink of his wine to hide his emotions. "I am well, thank you," Lady Anneth replied politely. "I trust your wife is also well?"

Tarondor grinned. "We are expecting our fifth child within the month."

"That is wonderful news," Lady Anneth replied, smiling. "I shall write to her later this week. I have missed her company."

Tarondor bowed his head politely, before returning his attention back to Losdir and his brother.

"He is a fine young man, is he not?" Ivriniel's mother asked her.

Ivriniel frowned and turned to her mother. "Of whom do you speak of, mother?"

"Lord Losdir," she whispered. "I caught you... admiring him."

"When?" Ivriniel asked, feeling her heart starting to beat faster.

Her mother smiled. "Just before, while Lord Tarondor was speaking."

Ivriniel felt nervous. "Did anyone else notice my behaviour?"

Anneth placed her hand over her daughter's hand. "There is no need to worry, my child. Like I said, he is a fine young man."

Ivriniel looked over at Finduilas who was talking joyously with Imrahil. "I wish to become better acquainted with Lord Losdir before furthering anything."

Anneth sighed happily and turned back to her plate of food. "I am blessed to have both my daughters finding happiness at the same time."

"You approve of Lord Agoron," Ivriniel whispered.

"Yes and no," her mother replied quietly. "I had always hoped that Finduilas would make a more... important marriage than to an Admiral."

"They are not married yet, mother," Ivriniel reminded her.

"Well," her mother continued, "if a man of higher birth approaches your father and requests your sister's hand in marriage, then I do not see why such a union shall not take place."

"It would make Finduilas so happy," Ivriniel said. "She deserves it."

"So do you," her mother replied. "Do not thirst yourself of such a luxury."

Ivriniel smiled. "Yes, mother."

Dinner proved to be lovely. After, Angelimir moved his family and guests to the smaller assembly room behind the great hall. There, a great fire roared in the fireplace; the floor was lined with expensive carpets – a gift from a Harad Prince many, many years ago. Large, comfortable chairs proved tempting, as the servants brought trays of wine out and platters of honeyed fruit.

Ivriniel was fortunate to find herself seated in between Finduilas and Lord Losdir. He was talking to Imrahil, who was sitting to his other side; she hoped their conversation proved fruitless.

"I need to tell you something," Ivriniel said to Finduilas, holding her hand. "Grandfather spoke to me this afternoon. He said that Father intends to speak to Lord Agoron before he is invited to dine with us in two days time."

Finduilas' eyes widened with pleasure. "Oh, sister! That is so wonderful."

Ivriniel squeezed her sister's hand. "However, Grandfather wants me to make sure that you stay away from Lord Agoron until Father has had a chance to speak to him."

Finduilas slightly frowned. "Why?"

"I presume it has something to do with protocol," she answered. "I am sure everything shall move smoothly now for the two of you."

Finduilas grinned, her eyes sparkling. "I do hope so. Oh, sister, I am so happy!"

Ivriniel let go of Finduilas' hand and turned to Losdir, who was now sipping his wine. "My lord," she said quietly.

He turned to her and bowed his head with courtesy. "My lady," he answered, "it is good to see you again."

Ivriniel blushed. "How did your first patrol along the coastline of Belfalas go?"

"The progress went rather smoothly. There was little to no activity from the enemy." Losdir paused and looked over at Angelimir. "It has made my lord, prince very happy."

Ivriniel smiled. "It is enlightening news that you encountered little resistance from the enemy. However, I fear this smooth sailing will not last."

Losdir bowed his head. "I know, my lady. It is a shame that such a beautiful and serene realm is cursed by the presence of such evil."

"Perhaps one day it shall not be so," she replied gently.

"Princess, would you do me the honour of showing me around the port tomorrow morning," he asked quietly and little too suddenly. "I have had little time to explore on my own, and I fear becoming lost in such a large city."

Ivriniel opened her mouth slightly, surprised by his request. "I would be glad to give you a tour of my family's city. What time would suite you?"

"Would you meet me at the front palace gates at the ninth hour?" he asked hopefully.

She nodded. "Of course."

Losdir smiled and sat back in his chair, feeling a great wave of relief flow through him.

Ivriniel turned to Finduilas and smiled shyly. "What?" Finduilas mouthed.

"Later," she whispered in reply. Ivriniel smiled to herself; she could barely conceal her excitement that she would be able to spend her morning in Losdir's company.


	3. Declaring Oneself: Part 1

Dol Amroth: October 2974

Autumn

Just before the ninth hour, Ivriniel walked down to the front courtyard. Her velvet, blue cloak flapped in the wind that gusted through the open corridor that looked out at the harbour. The day was not as beautiful as she had hoped; clouds were forming on the horizon, promising an afternoon shower or storm. Ivriniel grimaced as she walked on, hoping that the weather would not ruin her day with Lord Losdir. She had been looking forward to this day all morning. She had woken up just after dawn, bathed, and spent most of her time sitting in front of the mirror, making sure she looked her best. She wore her hair down; Finduilas said that she looked prettiest with her hair down. Not that Finduilas could complain – her sister always looked beautiful.

Losdir was waiting patiently at the front gates, just as he had promised the previous evening. Ivriniel could not refrain herself from smiling broadly as she approached him.

"My lady," he said, bowing. He was not wearing his uniform, but a plain tunic and leather vest, coloured in shades of green and brown.

"Lord Losdir," she replied politely, feeling her heart starting to beat faster.

He gently lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. "I have something for you." He led her away from the guards at the gates, down the lane that led to the royal stables.

"What is it?" she asked, quite eager to know what kind of gift he had for her.

Losdir smiled and pulled her over into a groove in the high, stone wall. "I do not know if this is proper for a man of my station to give a gift to a lady of your rank."

"You are a lord of Gondor," Ivriniel replied calmly. "Lords of Gondor have given me gifts before."

He gave a self-depicting smile. "Nevertheless, I have never met such a high-ranking woman before. You are quite special."

Ivriniel blushed. "Please, there is no need to such compliments."

Losdir nodded. "Forgive me." He pulled out a small piece of cloth. "I may be a lord of Gondor, but my family is of little fortune since we live so remotely. I-I... cannot afford such... expensive ornaments." He handed her the cloth. "I made this for you during my patrol."

Ivriniel accepted the cloth; she felt something wrapped inside of it. "Thank you." She un-wrapped the cloth and saw he had made her a bracelet of dried lavender and meadow grass. Nobody had ever given her such an intimate token. It was beautiful; made from the heart. "Lord Losdir, this is the most thoughtful gift someone has ever given me," she said, feeling tears swelling in her eyes. "I-I feel so grateful to know you. You are not like other lords I have met. They seek personal gain from my friendship - power, and authority. You seek none of that... or you are very good at hiding it!"

Losdir laughed at her last remark. "Princess, I would never hide anything from you. Your assessment of me is correct – I do not seek personal gain or power from your friendship. To me, you are nothing more than a lovely and beautiful woman who honours me with her company."

Ivriniel smiled and wiped her eyes, feeling her heart warm towards him. "You must forgive me; I do not know why I am acting like this."

Losdir wiped a tear away from her cheek. "It is okay to show your feelings freely. If you do not do such a thing, then how can you be yourself?"

Ivriniel raised herself onto her toes and kissed his cheek. "I thank you again for this token." She stepped back and carefully placed the bracelet around her wrist. "I am afraid I am going to end up breaking it by accident; it is so delicate."

Losdir chuckled. "My lady, if such a thing happens; I can easily make you another one."

"No!" she said rather loudly. "I-I like this one. I shall be very careful with it." He smiled and offered his arm; she gladly accepted and headed back away from the stables, down towards the city. The wind was picking up, causing Ivriniel to wrap her cloak around her tightly. "I wish it were not so windy today."

"Perhaps we could continue this tour another day?" he suggested.

"Oh, no," Ivriniel said, "I will be fine, honestly."

"Is there somewhere less windy we can go?" he asked.

Ivriniel stopped walking and bit her bottom lip; she looked around, trying to find a place suitable. "The city hall is not far from here, and it is connected to the city library; have you been to either?"

Losdir shook his head. "No, my lady; I did not know that Dol Amroth had a city hall."

Ivriniel smiled and started walking once more. "It is used for many functions – city conferences, a place to hold important functions; for example, last year the Steward of Gondor visited, and we held a feast and ball at the city hall since it is able to hold more people than the great hall in the palace."

"So it is similar to a mess hall?" he asked.

"Yes, in some ways. However, I believe you could fit almost three mess halls into the city hall; it is quite large," she answered. "Do you have similar buildings in Pinnath Gelin?"

"We have a mess hall," he said, "but it is solely used for my father's men to dine in."

"I am sure you have been to Dol Amroth's mess hall," she said, smiling.

He chuckled. "Most certainly! I believe it to be illegal for a Knight of Dol Amroth to not venture to the mess hall at last three times a week."

Ivriniel laughed. "Where else have you been in Dol Amroth?"

"The port, obviously," he started, "and to several of the taverns, and the training grounds."

"Have you ever been to the city gardens?" she asked keenly.

"I cannot say that I have," he replied. "I did not know Dol Amroth had a city garden."

Ivriniel smiled broadly. "It was built only five generations ago, by my great-great grandfather. He had a love of flora. It was built in the western side of the city, facing the ocean. Would you like to venture there?"

"As long as you will not be uncomfortable," he replied, looking a bit anxious. "Is the weather still bothering you?"

Ivriniel shook her head, causing a few strands of her hair to fall over her face. "No," she answered, tucking the strands behind her ears. "I will be fine, honestly."

"Very well then," he said, smiling. "Your ladyship will have to lead the way."

She grinned. "It is not hard to miss; the garden is not surrounded by any high walls. It is completely open to the public eye."

"It must be very popular," he remarked.

"Oh, it is," she said. "Through the years, my ancestors have added their own touch to the garden. My grandfather added a large fountain in the centre, with a large maple tree shadowing it. The tree's leaves have changed to a breathtaking auburn colour now that it is autumn."

"Does your father have plans for his own touch?" Losdir asked curiously.

"My father does not have a great fondness for gardens, but my mother does," Ivriniel replied. "Father asked her what she would like to have added to the city gardens."

"What does she wish to have added?"

"A pond," she replied simply. "She wants a pond added with fish and reeds growing out of it. She also wishes for stone benches to be placed around it so people may use it as a place of serenity."

"It would be a place of serenity," Losdir remarked. "Have plans been made for the construction to start?"

Ivriniel shook her head. "No; my father's touch may only be added once he has come into reign."

Losdir nodded, but said nothing.

"Have you heard from your own father and family?" she asked.

"I have," he replied. "My father has recently written to me, asking of my progress here as a knight. I have replied, informing him that this change in my life has been for the best. I love it here in Dol Amroth, everything seems more..." He inhaled deeply. "It is more... fresh and life comes in a renewed form."

They had reached the front entrance to the garden; Ivriniel stopped walking and turned to face him. "That is so beautiful. I had no idea you felt that way about my family's city."

Losdir smiled warmly. "You are a very fortunate woman to have been born and raised here."

"It has been an honour," she admitted. "I feel so gratified to have been born into my family." She turned towards the gardens. "Well, here we are."

Losdir lifted his gaze from her towards the landscape before him - variations of trees, flowers, rosary bushes, and marble-carved statues. "It is nothing to how I had imagined it."

Ivriniel grinned. "Come." She offered him her hand. "It is even more breathtaking when you are walking through the paths."

Several other people were roaming through the gardens; a few children were hiding behind the bushes, playing games from their youth. Butterflies circled the flowerbeds, while bees buzzed from flower to flower. The trees towered over them, offering shade from the sun's rays – Losdir imagined the place to be exceedingly popular in the summer season.

"The fountain is just over here," Ivriniel said, leading him towards the centre of the garden. They passed numerous statues of swans, sea creatures, and men dress in arms, before they came into view of a large, white fountain spurting out water down to the lower basins. Losdir espied a young couple, hand in hand by the maple tree, the man clearly whispering sweet nothings into his lady's ear.

"It is quite a popular place for couples," Ivriniel said, also noticing the young couple. "Sometimes even wedding ceremonies are held here."

"Truly?" he said, turning his gaze back to Ivriniel. "Any royal ceremonies?"

"Actually, yes," she replied happily. "My parents were bonded here; there is a stone courtyard just over there." Ivriniel pointed west. "It is just under that oak tree."

"I thought your father did not have a fondness for gardens," he asked.

Ivriniel laughed. "But mother does, remember. She insisted on being wedded in a garden. My grandfather was a little hesitant with having a royal wedding in a public place, but she got her way in the end."

"Do you share your mother's interest in garden life?" he asked.

"I do," she answered, walking over to a carved statue of a swan. She ran her hand along its smooth neck. "I find nature to be the one place where I can properly think; everything is much clearer when you are not surrounded by the industry. I believe it to be the reason why this garden is so popular."

"It may also explain why the people here are far more relaxed," Losdir added. "Here, in Dol Amroth there is a place of sanctuary, where one can escape the busy life of the city by only having to walk a few steps. I am sure there is no such place in Minas Tirith."

"No, there is not," Ivriniel replied. "Finduilas always tells me that Minis Tirith is nothing more than a cold fortress that was purposely built for defensive reasons - she has a point, for it was built as a stronghold King Anarion."

"I am sure Minas Tirith has its own beauty, as all cities do," Losdir said, walking over to her.

Ivriniel kept her position as he came closer. She felt her heart starting to beat faster, and her cheeks warming. "Then you must take up your case with my sister."

"Perhaps in good time," he replied, staring into her eyes. "I-I..." He sighed. "Forgive me." He stepped back and focused on the swan statue.

"No," Ivriniel said, folding her arms. "What do you wish to say to me?"

He slowly turned his gaze back to her. "I cannot say – it would be improper."

"Please," she said, unfolding her arms. "If you are holding back because of rank, then I dismiss it just this once."

Losdir smiled faintly. "You are kind to do that, but... I..."

"What is it," she insisted.

He placed his hand on her cheek, causing her to blush. "I care for you."

Her eyes widened. Cared for her, she repeated in her mind. "I care for you too," she said aloud, resting her hand on his. "I always have."

"But it cannot be," he continued, lowering his hand. "I just need you to know."

Ivriniel frowned. "I do not understand – what cannot be?" She did not dare hope that this sudden change of conversation was his attempt of declaring his love for her.

Losdir stepped back from her. "You are a beautiful woman, Lady Ivriniel; it has been more than a pleasure being in your presence. I look forward to seeing you; it is the one main thing I love about Dol Amroth – you."

Ivriniel raised her eyebrows. "Y-you mean that?"

He clasped his hand over hers. "I would never say such a thing if I did not mean it."

She took a deep breath. "This is so sudden."

Losdir let go of her hand. "I know, and that is why I must ask for your forgiveness. I wanted to wait longer, hoping that you would return my feelings, but I could not refrain myself any longer."

Did he think I did not love him? She asked herself. Never! "How could you say that?" she said, biting her bottom lip to refrain herself from crying. "Why do you think I spend so much time with you? I have never shown another lord such pleasant company before. This is not something I do on a daily basis."

"Your family would not allow this," he said a little sternly, "and my own family would believe I was only pursuing you for personal gain."

"I would never wed a man who only pursued me for personal gain, and I know very well that you do not," she said firmly.

"There are other lords worthy of your hand than I," he continued, his eyes cast down.

"W-what!" she shouted. "How could you say that to me?"

Her last remark caused Losdir to look her in the eye with complexity. "I am sorry I have brought this topic up. I should have known better."

"When would it have been a better time?" she asked, folding her arms again. "In a month? A year? A decade?"

"Lady Ivriniel," he said, raising his hands to calm her. "Please, I do not wish to upset you."

"You already have," she said sourly. "Why bring up a topic, and then discourage it?"

"I was not thinking," he insisted. "Please, forgive me."

"I forgive you," she said, unfolding her arms and placing them on her hips. "I forgive you, and now I am leaving you." She turned to leave, but he grabbed her by the arm.

"Please," he said desperately, "I do not wish for us to leave on bad terms."

Ivriniel pulled herself from his grip. "When I feel up to it, I shall write to you, and then we shall meet again." She stepped back before turning and hurrying out of the garden, with several people watching her as she went.

Losdir stood there, slightly unsure of what had just happened. He had not intended for any of that to occur. He had made her angry... or upset, he was not sure which one. She was going to write to him, he thought. Should he take that as some sort of positive sign or miracle that she would even speak to him again? He just shook his head, completely bewildered. He would never understand how a woman's mind works. He was, however determined to set things straight. Should he send her flowers as an apology or a poem, perhaps just a letter of sincere apology? Sweet Eru – he did not even know what type of flowers she liked; did she even like reading poetry? He let out a deep, annoyed groan and covered his face with his hands. What had he done to deserve this?

Ivriniel stormed up towards the palace, wiping her eyes. Why was she crying? She thought. Was it because she had just been rejected? Had she been rejected? She was not completely sure. She was so longing for his declaration of love, that she did not give him all the time he needed to say those three blissful words. She stopped walking and turned around. Should she go back? She bit her bottom lip and frowned. She could not see Losdir in the distance – perhaps he was still in the garden, dumbfounded, she thought. She saw a royal guard walked up the street towards her.

"You there," she said to him, "state your name."

"Agordir," the guard replied, saluting her.

"Well, Sir Agordir," she began, "I need an escort back up to the palace, would you be so kind as to accompany me?"

"It would be my honour," he replied, setting himself two paces behind her and she began walking back up to the palace.

For the rest of the journey, Ivriniel's mind swirled about how she was going to resolve her outburst at Losdir. She really did not mean it, and now, looking back at it, she felt like a damn fool! She stopped out the front of the courtyard gates and turned to Agordir. She pulled out three gold coins from her cloak's pocket and handed them to him. "For your service; please, take them."

Agordir hesitated before reaching out and gently picking up the coins. "I thank you deeply, my lady." He bowed low before returning down the street.

Ivriniel flopped onto the day bed in her antechamber, covering her face with a pillow. She was such a fool, she kept saying to herself. "My life is ruined."

"What did you do now?" Finduilas asked, right after she had sneaked into her sister's apartment.

Ivriniel removed the pillow from her face and frowned deeply. "Nothing to concern your pretty little head with."

Finduilas folded her arms over her chest. "I take it your day with Lord Losdir did not go well?"

"It was going perfect until I opened my mouth at the wrong time and came to the wrong conclusion... or I thought I came to the right conclusion." Ivriniel sat up. "I have no idea what I am talking about."

Finduilas raised an eyebrow. "Did you have an argument?"

Ivriniel nodded sadly. "Unfortunately."

"Do you regret it?" her sister asked. "Would you try and amend things?"

"Of course I would," Ivriniel said, standing up. "Do you have any ideas how I could?"

"Well," Finduilas said, with a sparkle in her eyes. "I know Father wants me to stay away from Lord Agoron, but I cannot! I am going to sneak out tonight and see him. If you desire so much as to make peace with Lord Losdir, you could sneak out also and talk to him."

Ivriniel had her mouth open, dumbstruck. "You are going to sneak out tonight? Finduilas, have you completely lost your senses? Nobody can sneak out of the palace!"

"If you know how to, you can," her sister replied stoutly.

Ivriniel eyed Finduilas suspiciously. "You have already snuck out previously, have you not? Is this why you are so confident?"

Finduilas shrugged. "I will only tell you this – I have snuck out to see Lord Agoron before, but it was many months ago. Trust me, sister, you will not regret this."

Ivriniel wanted to slap some sense into her. "If Father and Mother knew..."

"They will never find out!" Finduilas hissed. "Swear on your life that you will speak of it to nobody!"

Ivriniel placed her hands on her head. "Dear sister, I love you exceedingly, but there are times when I just want to throttle you!"

"Hush," Finduilas whispered, waving her hands at her sister. "Do not let anyone hear you. Now, are you going to sneak out with me tonight, or not?"

Ivriniel placed her hands on her hips. "Well, I will no longer be able to sleep tonight knowing what you are going to be doing, so yes, I will accompany you."

Finduilas jumped up and down with excitement. "I have always wanted us to do something like this together."

"Why are you so excited?" Ivriniel asked her. "We are going behind our family's backs; we are betraying their trust. We should be ashamed to even think of sneaking out."

"My dear, sweet sister," Finduilas said, embracing her. "If I did not have you to keep me in check, I would most likely end up the scandal of the family."

"That would never happen," Ivriniel replied. "You are too kind-hearted to be called that."

Finduilas smiled, before becoming serious. "I-I do not seek these... mischievous ways to lose the trust and respect of our family." She hesitated. "I am in love, Ivriniel. If I could, I would move mountains just to see Agoron. Therefore I am willing to take this risk of sneaking out to see him."

Ivriniel's heart warmed to the matter. "I am happy for you, but still a little uneasy about this whole sneaking out business. Nevertheless, I shall accompany you tonight and see Lord Losdir so I may apologise."

Finduilas smiled happily. "I assure you, you will not regret this."

Ivriniel watched as her younger sister left her apartment in high spirits. After, she tilted her head back and sighed; how was she going to pull this off?


	4. Declaring Oneself: Part 2

Dinner that night in the Swan Palace went smoothly; too smoothly for Ivriniel. Never before had she even dreamed of betraying her family's trust in her. Then again, she knew Finduilas would never do such drastic and foolish actions without good reason. And what reason was that? Oh, yes, she was madly in love with a man of common birth. Lord Agoron, or Master Agoron as he was born as, had been knighted by Prince Angelimir in the year 2966 – eight years ago. Being knighted had only given him the title 'Sir' Agoron, but after entering the royal service as a knight, he trained himself up to become quite the worthy seaman during the time Prince Adrahil had been Admiral of the Fleet. That is when it all began; two years ago, their father, Adrahil had withdrawn from service, and the next worthy man to be Admiral in the eyes of Adrahil was Agoron. Finduilas had made his acquaintance at court when their grandfather served him the papers and title of Admiral of the Swan Fleet. Along with the station, he was granted the title 'Lord of Dol Amroth', a spacious townhouse and a pension. Agoron had nothing and nobody else but his skills as a sailor to thank for his elevation.

Ivriniel twisted her fork in the salad on her plate, wondering how high Lord Agoron would end up. Finduilas was a princess, and if she were to wed him, his title would soar from 'Lord' to 'Prince' after a half hour ceremony. Such a thought irritated Ivriniel. She did not hate the man, but she just did not see him worthy of such a title. Her ancestors had worked tirelessly in all matters to uphold the title as Prince, and what had Agoron done? Prove himself a worthy sailor and capable commander. Majority of the soldiers in Belfalas were capable of achieving such tasks. Why should he be treated any different from them?

"Father," Ivriniel said hesitantly.

Adrahil looked down the table. "Yes, Daughter?"

"When Imrahil is knighted, does that mean he will automatically become Admiral of the Swan Fleet?" she asked, moving her gaze towards her young brother. Imrahil shifted in his chair, a frown on his face.

"Princes of Dol Amroth are not automatically entitled to such a position," Adrahil replied. "If Imrahil wants to be Admiral, he will have to prove himself."

"I do not wish to be Admiral... yet," Imrahil said, adding to the conversation. "Lord Agoron is a worthy Admiral, and my closest friend; I would never wish for that title and honour to be taken from him, unless he gives it up willingly, without pressure to do so."

"Spoken like a true heir," Adrahil said, smiling fondly at his only son. "I am surprised you have become so close a friend with Lord Agoron, for he is quite a few years older than you."

"I see him as the brother I never had," Imrahil replied. "I could never have asked for a more trustworthy friend."

Finduilas was glowing from all the compliments Agoron was receiving from her family. She must think this to be a good sign, Ivriniel thought, the corner of her mouth twitching.

"He is a good Admiral," Adrahil continued. "Better than I ever was."

"Nonsense!" Ivriniel protested. "How could anyone do better than you?"

Adrahil chuckled. "My daughter, it may come to shock you that I am not able to excel in everything. I enjoyed being Admiral, but I found it hard to bond with the men under my command. Lord Agoron does a marvellous job at doing so. There is a very large list of men wishing to join Agoron's ship; word has spread of his thoughtfulness and ability to communicate with them on a common level."

"Perhaps that may be so because he was born a commoner," Ivriniel said, trying not to sound too nasty for Finduilas' sake.

"We were all commoners at one stage," he father said, swirling the wine in his goblet. "So do not be too quick to judge those below us."

The wind howled through the window in her antechamber; Ivriniel closed the shutters and pulled the floor-length curtains across. It was turning out to be a crispy cool night, making Ivriniel dread going along with Finduilas' plan. She had bathed after dinner and now sat on the rug in front of the fireplace, combing her long hair. She had dismissed her servants for the evening, telling them to make it home before the nightly weather become too cold. She poured herself some wine – it seemed to help her unwind. The liquid in her glass sparkled in the reflection of the flames of the fireplace. She kept her eyes on the liquid, wondering if she stared hard enough she would be able to see the outcome of tonight's events. She was not a seer, though some believed the gift ran in her family from the ancient Elven blood that coursed through her veins. Her grandfather certainly believed they had the gift, claiming to have had dreams that came to. Until she had a dream that came true, she would continue to believe it only to be in tales.

There was a soft knock on the door; it creaked open and Finduilas appeared, wearing a dark, velvet blue cloak over her ivory silk dress. Her sister looked beautiful; wavy, dark hair falling below her bosom, a simple pearl necklace with matching earrings that complimented her eyes. Finduilas had always been the more beautiful sister.

"It is still too early," Ivriniel said, sipping her wine.

"It is past the ninth hour," Finduilas replied, gently closing the door. "We can leave soon."

"Father would still be awake, as would Mother," Ivriniel said, pouring her sister a glass of wine. "Sit, I wish to talk before we leave."

Finduilas knelt down next Ivriniel and accepted the wine. "Thank you."

"I should have said this earlier," Ivriniel started. "I would like to clarify some rules for tonight." She waited for her sister to protest, but Finduilas bowed her head, holding her tongue. "You are, under no circumstances to behave dishonourably with Lord Agoron. You shall not go anywhere without me, for if we are to be caught by the guards, or Valar forbid, by thieves or other unruly people, we shall be caught together. I am your older sister, Finduilas; it is my duty to keep you safe."

"I understand," Finduilas said, watching the flames of the fire dance between the thick logs. "Where does Lord Losdir live?"

"At the lodgings for the knights," Ivriniel replied. "It is down that laneway at the front gates of the palace."

"I know," Finduilas replied. "Agoron's townhouse is further down, close to the docking harbour for the navy."

"That is not too far a walk," Ivriniel said, contemplating how long a journey.

"Ten minutes at the most," Finduilas confirmed. "I can walk there on my own."

Ivriniel shot her sister a glare. "Were you not listing just before? I will accompany you."

Finduilas frowned. "I have done this before without being kidnapped or robbed."

Ivriniel sighed deeply. "Not every night is the same, Finduilas. Different people roam the streets every night. You cannot possibly go anywhere on your own. Besides, why does Lord Agoron not meet you at least half way?"

"I-I..." Finduilas stammered.

Ivriniel's eyes widened. "He does not know you are coming."

"Well... no," Finduilas admitted. "We have not spoken in a while, as you know."

"Father will be speaking to him shortly," Ivriniel confirmed.

"Can we please leave soon?" her sister pleaded. "I am anxious to be in his arms once more."

Ivriniel refrained herself from rolling her eyes; she did not want to upset her sister. "Very well, let me put on my cloak."

The corridors of the Swan Palace were cool in the nightly breeze. Both sisters had their cloaks wrapped tightly around their bodies as they moved swiftly down to one of the back courtyards. Finduilas led the way, and soon Ivriniel found herself in a courtyard filled with flowers, small trees, and herbs. It was their mother's favourite garden; she tended to it on many occasions, even having a spiral stair installed so she could access it from her apartment one level up. Ivriniel slowly lifted her eyes, focusing on the room that the stairs led into. She frowned; there was a dim light seeping out of the high windows, the curtains gently flapping in the breeze. Her parents were still awake, most likely talking by the fireplace, or sharing an intimate moment. Finduilas grabbed her sister's hand and yanked her to the gate that led down a narrow pathway to a viewing platform overlooking the ocean. The wind became stronger as they came into view of the sea; the waves violently crashed against the high seawall, birds soared above them, seeking shelter from the cold night ahead. Her attention was drawn to her sister, watching her climb over the railing that overlooked shrubs and other wild fauna. Ivriniel did not like the look of this. Reluctantly, she followed her sister's actions and soon found herself making her way through coarse terrain. Mercifully, after a rather long walk, it came to an end when she saw a wall that divided the wildlife from a pathway. They helped each other over; Ivriniel recognised where they were.

"We are near the knight's lodgings," she said, looking around to see if anybody noticed their rather unusual entrance.

Finduilas nodded happily. "Indeed. We ventured around the front courtyard through the bushes."

"That is quite clever," Ivriniel replied, folding her arms. "How did you figure that pathway out?"

"Sometimes I go down to the viewing platform to watch the sun set. One afternoon, I noticed the bushland below and wondered if anyone had thought that area would be used as a means to hide in preparations of an assassination, or robbery." Finduilas shrugged her shoulders. "It then came to me I could use the bushland to form my own escape to see Agoron."

"How clever of you," Ivriniel said briskly. "I hope you have not told anyone about it."

Her sister shook her head. "Never; you are the first and only one to know about it."

Ivriniel nodded. "Good; keep it that way. Now, lead the way to Lord Agoron's home."

"Are you sure you want to walk all that way?" Finduilas asked. "Lord Losdir's lodgings are only several meters away."

Ivriniel shook her head. "No; I am coming with you, now lead the way."

Finduilas rolled her eyes and sighed. "Sometimes I hate you for being so protective."

Ivriniel tucked her arm into her sister's. "It is all for your own wellbeing."

The walk had taken ten minutes, just as Finduilas had said. Ivriniel saw no lights glooming out of Lord Agoron's windows, and it made her suspicious. "He may be sleeping."

"I will wake him," Finduilas said, smiling mischievously. "He would want me to."

"He may not be dressed!" Ivriniel hissed furiously. "Please, Finduilas do not do anything foolish with him!"

Finduilas placed her hand on her heart. "I respect and love my honour and dignity. I would never do anything to ruin either of them, and Agoron knows that. He respects them too."

Ivriniel took a deep breath, nodding with her eyes closed. "Very well, I will come to take you back to the palace in an hour."

"An hour," Finduilas said, seeming disappointed. "That is not long."

Ivriniel raised an eyebrow. "Well, it will be no less than an hour, but I do not know how my time with Losdir shall go."

Finduilas nodded. "I will see you later."

"Behave," she warned her younger sister. She turned and left, wondering if she was going to end up regretting her decision to leave her sister alone with an unwedded man. She has been with him before on her own, she thought. What harm could happen tonight?

The night was becoming colder; the wind was picking up, sprawling leaves across the pathway. Ivriniel hated the dark, for anything or anyone could jump out at you. Dol Amroth was a safe city, but even the safest cities had a band of troublemakers. She pulled her cloak's hood over her head, and quickened her pace. She wondered how Losdir would react to seeing her after their last encounter. She felt bad and regretted her behaviour; she needed to apologies.

The knights lodging came into view; torches were lit at the entrance with guards walking around the small courtyard, talking amongst each other. She approached them, wondering if it would be best to announce herself, or pretend to be a common woman.

"Hail!" one knight said, placing his hand up before him. "State your business here!"

She lowered her head, only revealing a few strands of her dark hair, her face only visible by the dim light of the torches. "I am... Hostiel, I have come on Sir Losdir's request." Oh, she hated lying!

She heard the knights' murmur between them, a few chuckles. "I did not see Losdir as that type of man! Follow me," he said, opening the door.

Ivriniel could not help but smile at her triumph. The knight leading the way placed his hand on her back, and directed her down a narrow hallway. They stopped at a door. She kept her face lowered, staring at the floor; she saw light coming from under the threshold. The knight knocked three times. "Losdir, your service has arrived."

"Thank you," she said quietly to the knight. "I can manage on my own." She lifted her eyes a fraction and saw the knight wink at her before departing back down the hallway.

The door opened. "What service?" Losdir said, his hair ruffled, a confused expression. "Who are you?"

Ivriniel dropped her hood and smiled shyly. "Let me in," she whispered. His face changed to complete surprise, and she swore she caught a hint of delight. She stepped over the threshold and into his small room - a narrow cot, a table, a small chest and coffer, an oil lamp lighting the room, and a high, narrow window.

She sat on the edge of the bed, keeping her cloak tightly wrapped. "I came here to apologies."

Losdir sat on the chest, his elbows resting on his knees. "You could not wait until daybreak?"

She smiled. "I... I felt so guilty from how I treated you today."

"I should never have started such a topic," he said, staring at the wall.

"I would like to resume it," she said boldly. "Will you hear me out?" He nodded, keeping his eyes on the wall before him. "I am not a simple woman, I have flaws, and I have been living so... comfortably in the palace. I suppose I have become arrogant in my ways. When I met you, something drew me to keep seeing you. I have never met a man such as you. The way you talk, the way you speak so kindly to me. I can see it in your eyes that this friendship is not a game; it is not an elevation, nothing more than a true and honest friendship. I thank you for that." She chuckled softly. "Besides my brother, you are the only other man who treats me so." She took a very deep breath. "I-I love you."

His eyes darted towards her, showing complete amazement. "Y-you... you love me?"

She opened her mouth to reply but found it hard to do so. "Yes."

He stood up, taking only a few steps to where she sat; he knelt before her, clasping her hands in his. "Forgive me, but I have fear of this love. You are a princess, and I am nothing more than a lord."

She felt a lump come to her throat, tears swelled in her eyes. "Say you will not turn me away."

He placed a hand on her cheek. "Hush, do not weep. My feelings for you have not changed. I have loved you from the moment you came to me at the harbour." He smiled. "I believed that nothing would come of it, for you are royalty."

"My mother approves," she said swiftly. "If Mother approves, than my father will approve."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes showing hesitation.

"Yes," she whispered. "Please, say that you love me."

He smiled. "I love you." He placed his hand behind her neck and drew her in for a kiss. It was sweet, yet simple; a first kiss. She gently slid off the cot and into his lap, moulding herself against his body. He cradled her, showering her with kisses. She mentally smiled, now knowing why Finduilas would risk everything to be with Lord Agoron, for she would now do the same for Losdir.

He kissed her nose before straightening. "I must go to your father."

Ivriniel nodded. "I know; he will understand."

He kissed her more deeply - soundly. "If he accepts me, then I promise you that I will make a good husband."

She smiled, staring into his eyes. "Just promise that you will never leave me."

"I would never dream of it," he replied, caressing her cheek. "I knew there was a purpose for me to come to Dol Amroth."

She grinned. "I never thought I would be given the chance to marry for love."

He kissed her once more. "Is it not every woman's dream to be wedded for love?"

She nodded. "Now I know why; it is so wonderful!"

He laughed, holding her close. "I will love you, Ivriniel till the day I die."

They stayed in each other's arms, kissing frequently, talking rarely. It was a feeling of rejuvenation, a new beginning. Ivriniel had told her grandfather of her feelings towards Losdir, surely with his approval and her mother's, her father would approve. If Finduilas was able to wed Lord Agoron, then why could she not wed a man born into nobility?

"I must go," she said, a while later. "It would be bad if the palace discovers that I am missing."

Losdir moaned with disappointment. "I shall see you tomorrow, though."

She nodded happily. "Come to the palace midmorning; Father will be in his study at that hour."

Losdir nodded and helped her to her feet. "I can hardly wait."

She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I love you."

He kissed her, holding her by the waist, not wanting to let go. "My beautiful princess - my love."

She sighed deeply with content. "Goodnight."

He kissed her one last time, deeply, and passionately. "Sweet dreams, my lady."

She stepped outside and placed her hood on. Refraining herself from running down the hallway, screaming with joy, she clasped her hands and kept her head lowered. Now was not the time to make mistakes. The knights at the front made sure she was safely out, telling her to come back any time. She laughed when they were out of hearing range. Her thoughts of bandits and robbers were out of her mind and she practically skipped down to Lord Agoron's house. A light was now lit in an upper room; she knocked loudly on the front door. She heard voices and footsteps approach. Finduilas appeared - her hair messier from when she had last seen her sister. Ivriniel frowned. Her sister's cloak was hanging over a chair, and she was suspicious of her sister's gown; was it a little crooked and creased?

"Are you ready to leave?" Ivriniel asked, eyeing Agoron in the distance.

Finduilas' face was blushed. "Yes, I suppose so. Let me grab my cloak."

Ivriniel watched as her little sister walked over to the chair and promptly placed her cloak on, gazing at Agoron with a smile on her lips. Agoron bowed to both ladies, before making sure Finduilas was safely out of his house. Once the door was closed behind them, Ivriniel grabbed her sister's wrist. "Why do you look so... scruffy?"

Finduilas giggled, her eyes sparkling with glee. "Nothing inappropriate happened, I promised you that, sister. Now tell me, did you apologies to Lord Losdir."

Ivriniel blushed. "Yes... and much more. I told him I loved him."

Finduilas stopped walking, dumbstruck. "What... truly?"

"He wants to marry me!" Ivriniel said, grabbing her sister's hands and spinning them around. "I am so happy!"

"Hush," Finduilas said, giggling. "Someone will hear us."

"I wish the world could hear that I am in love," Ivriniel said, holding her sister's hand. "Now I know how you feel."

Finduilas smiled warmly. "I am so happy for you; you deserve it."

"He is going to talk to Father tomorrow morning," she continued.

"Then it seems you and I will have our verdicts," her sister said. "Father should have his mind made up if I am allowed to wed Agoron or not."

"Tomorrow then," Ivriniel said, smiling.

Finduilas grinned. "Tomorrow."


	5. A Wish, A Desire, A Consent

Nerves; that is what Ivriniel felt as she woke the next morning remembering the events of the previous night. Had she really snuck out of the palace with Finduilas? Did she truly declare her love for Losdir in the small confinement of his room? Ivriniel groaned into her pillow, wishing that she still had a few more hours to sleep. Her chambermaid entered, humming happily as she set the small fireplace alight. Ivriniel slipped out of bed and placed on her slippers and robe. "Will you fetch me a jug of hot water please, Nan?" she asked, walking over to the wardrobe. Being the eldest, Ivriniel had many gowns of silk, damask, and satin. Most had been passed down through the generations, being modified, trimmed, and hemmed. She chose to wear a gown of green satin, hoping it would please Losdir to see her wearing the colours of his people. She undressed reluctantly, hating the cool mornings of late autumn and winter. Her wardrobe had no heating, save for a small window that looked towards the south; and sunlight barely ever seeped through it.

Nan entered moments later carrying a large jug of heated water. She placed it on the small round table before helping her mistress tighten her corset. Nan then poured the hot water into the basin and handed Ivriniel a cloth to use.

"Thank you, Nan," Ivriniel said, placing the cloth into the basin to absorb some of the water. She hated washing during cold mornings. Even if the water were hot, it would leave a cool residue of water on her skin, making the tiny hairs on her skin stick up in protest. "Nan, after you have helped me lace up my gown, will you go to my father's study and inform him that I wish to speak to him shortly."

"Yes, my lady," Nan replied, bowing her head in respect.

After her chambermaid had left a short while later, Ivriniel walked back into her chamber and sat at the dressing table, staring at herself in the mirror. It was rumoured that her family were descendants of elves, but her nose and cheeks had light sprinkles of freckles. Surely elves did not have freckles! Perhaps the blood of the elves was running low in her veins now, and more traits of man were beginning to appear. Her eyes were plain – sea-grey. There was nothing special or beautiful about them in Ivriniel's opinion. Next to Finduilas, she was very plain. Her little sister could wear peasants clothing and still outshine every woman around her. She was not jealousy Finduilas; she did not envy the rather large amount of male attention her sister received at court. The only male attention she had ever truly enjoyed was Losdir's. Her heart warmed at the thought of his name. She knew her father would accept such a union, or better yet, hoped that he would.

After eating a light breakfast of assorted fruits and cheese, Ivriniel made her way to her father's study. It was eight-thirty in the morning; she had half an hour to make her case to her father before Losdir would appear. Part of her believed that her father would not accept such a union; he always believed that his eldest daughter would make a fine marriage to a man with a steady income and a handful of lands. Losdir was a Lord by right of birth, but he was the younger son of a Lord; Ivriniel did not even know if Losdir owned any lands in Pinnath Gelin.

She arrived at the wooden door of her father's study. She felt her heartbeat start to quicken; she had never felt so nervous in all her life. Then again, nothing had ever made her this nervous before. She knocked loudly and her father's clerk, Angoldir opened the door for her. She gave her father a curtsy. "Father."

Adrahil looked up from the papers on his desk; he frowned. "You may leave us, Angoldir." Adrahil stood up and walked over to the cabinet that held his liquor. "I suppose I should brace myself."

Ivriniel frowned, a fear seeping into her mind; had someone told him about her reasons for coming? "Whatever do you speak of, Father?"

Adrahil poured himself some brandy. "Dearest, you curtsied when you entered. Neither you or your sister does that unless you have something important to say, or you are in need to discuss a matter that makes either of you nervous."

Ivriniel let out a long breath of relief. "It is a matter of both importance and one that makes me nervous."

It was Adrahil's turn to let out a long breath. "I should sit in my chair by the fireplace then, for it is the only place that manages to relax and soothe me after serious and head thumping discussions."

"Please, Father you are not making this easy for me," she said, taking a seat across from him. "For me, this news I have brings joy and happiness. But I am afraid you may not be very... impressed with my choice."

Adrahil fixed his stare on his daughter for several moments. "Go on," he finally said.

Ivriniel took a deep breath before continuing: "I wish to marry and I have found someone I am willing to share the rest of my life with."

Adrahil took a swig of his brandy, finishing it. "I was expecting something far worse. Then again, I was and still am not planned on letting my eldest go."

Ivriniel felt her heart sink. "You say no."

Adrahil chuckled. "Any father would say no to the prospect of their daughter getting married. A daughter is one of the most precious things in a man's life. I love you dearly, Ivriniel." He sat up in his chair and placed his empty glass on the table beside him. "Now let us forget my sorrows! Who is it that you so dearly desire to wed?"

Ivriniel grinned. "Lord Losdir."

Her father's eyes narrowed. "Lord Losdir; he was just recently knighted here."

"Yes, Father," she replied. "He is an amazing young gentleman. I love him and he loves me."

"Those were his words?" he asked, his brow creasing with curiosity.

"Of course!" she said, feeling quite passionate to lay down her case before him. "We declared our love last ni..."

"Last night?" Adrahil said, his brow creasing even more. "Whatever were you doing speaking to Lord Losdir last night?"

"I-I... I met him in secret," she confessed. "It was more early evening than nighttime. We met in one of the back courtyards."

Adrahil eyed his daughter suspiciously, but decided better to let the topic go. "I see. So why is it that you are speaking to me and not him?"

"He is coming to speak to you," she replied quickly. "I told him to come to your study at the ninth hour to ask your permission." She let out a deep breath. "I wanted to come and speak to you on the matter first."

Adrahil sat back in his chair and sighed heavily. "This is not how it should go, Ivriniel. The man should always present the proposal of marriage to the woman's father first."

Ivriniel slightly lowered her head and nodded. "I am sorry for not follow protocol."

"Do not apologies, my dear," Adrahil said his voice soothing. "You seem very passionate about this, and for that I admire. I am happy you have found love, and I believe Lord Losdir is worthy of it. However, I have only met him on rare occasions, but he always acted politely and never caused any sort of scene or fuss. He rarely attends court, though."

"He is not a man of the court," Ivriniel replied. "He is committed to his duty as a swan knight and desires nothing more than to protect the borders of Belfalas."

"He is committed to his duty as a swan knight," Adrahil said, repeating his daughter's words. "Will that not be a problem for you? How will you feel when he is absent for many weeks at a time? Months perhaps? Will you not feel lonely or jealous of his duty that he is solely committed to?"

Ivriniel closed her eyes, thinking deeply. "Father, for the love I have for him, I am willing to accept his duty as a swan knight."

Adrahil slowly nodded. "Nevertheless, I still must have words to him. I love you too, Ivriniel; I have loved you far longer than any other man will. Remember that all I decide is for your best."

Ivriniel stood up and kissed her father on the cheek. "He makes me happy, Father. Remember that." She left her father's study and headed out to the front courtyard, making it just in time to meet Losdir. He bowed politely and kissed her hand. "Father is waiting for you in his study," she said in a faint whisper. "I will wait for you outside in the hallway." Losdir nodded; she sensed no nerves about him. "Are you confident? Do you think we are rushing this? Is this too soon?"

"Hush," Losdir said, caressing her cheek. Ivriniel felt herself melt inside, wanting more of his touch. "Be patient and positive. I love you."

Ivriniel sighed contently. "I love you too." She led him to her father's study door and took a seat outside while Losdir entered. She turned her head and looked out the window that faced the landscape stretching out to the east, towards Minas Tirith. Farmers were working tirelessly on their lands, reaping what they had planted. Her family's country was at peace, though she had a deep feeling it would not last for the many years to come. Further away on the horizon, she saw the faint orange and red glow of Mordor; the lair of the Dark Lord who hid himself behind high, sharp mountains that cut through the sky.

Bringing herself back to reality, Ivriniel turned towards the door in front of her; it opened and Angoldir slipped out into the hallway. He bowed in respect of her presence before hurrying along out of sight. Ivriniel frowned, not liking the idea of Losdir and her father speaking privately. She stood up and walked over to the door's frame, pressing her ear against it.

"... a woman of great dignity," she heard Losdir say boldly. "She holds herself worthy of the title 'Princess of Dol Amroth'."

Ivriniel smiled to herself, enjoying the praise she should not have heard. "Despite all that," Adrahil said, "she is still my daughter; the eldest of my offspring. She may be just a woman, a noble lady among the courtiers of Gondor, but I have loved her from the moment she took her first breath. Being my eldest daughter, I have cherished and spoiled her more than my other two."

Ivriniel grinned - it was quite true, though nowadays she gave some of her gifts to Finduilas. Not to say that Finduilas was ill liked by their father; he always spoke of Finduilas' loveliness and how he was proud to have sired such an elegant and beautiful woman.

Ivriniel heard footsteps approaching and she stepped away from the door and sat back down, looking very innocent. Imrahil appeared, giving his sister one of his lavishing smiles. "Sister," he said, standing before her. "Are you waiting for an audience with Father?"

"Father is currently speaking with Lord Losdir," Ivriniel replied. "If you wish to speak with him, you are going to have to wait."

Imrahil nodded and sat down on the bench beside her. "Has Lord Losdir done something to cause offence? Or is he requesting dismissal from service? I have always believed he would eventually miss his homeland and seek it out once more; I could never leave Dol Amroth or Belfalas to serve another part of Gondor."

"It is neither of those matters," she said quickly. "Lord Losdir is asking Father for permission to marry me."

Imrahil was silent for several long moments. He sat there, staring at his sister with an unreadable expression. "H-he... y-you... what?"

Ivriniel rolled her eyes. "Please, Brother, do not act foolishly stupid." She folded her arms and sat up straight. "When our Father – Valar forbid – dies, and you are made Prince of Dol Amroth, will you respond that way when directed with a surprising and mind-baffling question or request?"

Imrahil, annoyed, stood up, and turned away from her. "There are times when I wished you would not judge my every action." He spun around, his eyes piercing hers. "I am still young, Ivriniel. I have a lot to learn; I admit that! Father is still quite young for a descendant of Numenor, and his health is excellent. For I am still in my youth and I have yet to reach my coming of age ceremony, I should not be looked down upon for my immaturity."

Ivriniel sighed heavily, unfolding her arms. "Brother, please stop looking at me in such a way. I love you and respect you for being Father's heir. But let me tell you something - you are Father's only heir. Never in Gondor has a woman inherited a crown. Finduilas and I can never rule after Father; it is up to you to set a good example and rule mercifully and justly." She stood up and grabbed Imrahil's hands. "Honestly, when I look at you I still see that little boy who used to sit on Father's shoulders and point out all the incoming ships that approached the docks. Do you remember those times? We were so merry and... naive. In some ways, we all are still. Something is going to happen in our time." She let go of Imrahil's hands and clung to her shoulders. "I can feel it."

Imrahil's mood had softened; he may be young, but he had a temper when trifled with. "Sister, let us speak of more pleasant matters. You just told me that Lord Losdir wishes to marry you!"

Ivriniel let go of herself and smiled broadly. "Yes. He loves me and I love him. I do hope that Father will approve."

"If he approves of Agoron marrying Finduilas, then I do not see why you should not wed a man of noble birth."

Ivriniel frowned on a confusing way. "H-has Father consented for Lord Agoron to wed our sister?"

Imrahil nodded enthusiastically. "Indeed he has. He told me so last night while he and I were speaking privately with Grandfather. Are you not happy for them, Ivriniel? Agoron is a wonderful man, and an excellent commander."

"I think you are biased towards him," she replied haughtily. "Lord Agoron is your closest friend and comrade at sea. I perfectly understand why you would agree to the match."

"You do not?" he asked curiously.

Ivriniel sighed heavily. "I appreciate that he makes Finduilas happy, for she deserves to be happy and well-loved. However, I cannot get passed the fact that he is not of noble birth."

"He is a Lord now," Imrahil reminded her. "Our grandfather made him so."

Ivriniel shrugged. "He was not raised a nobleman; he was not given a nobleman's education as a boy; he can read, write, and sail, but what else can he master? Losdir and every other nobleman in the country know twice as much as that and more!"

"Do not judge him from his background," Imrahil said. "Nobody can choose the family they are born into; it is something that will never be in our power to control. All we can do is choose our friends, make our enemies, and live a life with those we love."

Her brother's words made Ivriniel's heart soften to the matter. "I do not hate him, Imrahil. I will accept their marriage, I will enjoy his company, but I will never call him my friend. It is something that my heart will never allow and it pains me."

"Our hearts work in mysterious ways," Imrahil agreed. "Your heart for instance is working strangely. I had no idea you fancied Lord Losdir. I knew you would eventually take a husband, have children, and surround yourself with their love. But I always assumed the man you would wed would be of Grandfather's court."

"Losdir is part of Grandfather's court," she replied.

"Ah, but he was not born in Belfalas, and his presence at court has only been in the recent months," Imrahil answered. "He is still a new man of the court; few know who he is."

The door opened, revealing their father. "Imrahil," Adrahil said, nodding at his son. "Is your visit of great urgency?"

Imrahil looked at Ivriniel and smiled. "No, Father; I can wait."

"Good," their father replied, ushering Ivriniel into his study. "This will not take long."

Ivriniel stepped nervously into the room and saw Losdir standing before the large desk that overlooked the room. She smiled at him, and his eyes sparkled with confidence.

"Now," Adrahil said, standing behind his desk. "Ivriniel, I have spoken to Losdir and after much discussions and a little persuasion, I am pleased to announce that I consent."

Ivriniel opened her mouth in gleeful shock. She turned to Losdir and embraced him, wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling him embrace her back. She had her doubts, but she knew her father would agree in the end, for she knew very well that her father wanted nothing more than to see her happy. Remembering where she was and that her father was standing before her with amused eyes, she let go of Losdir and stepped back. "Forgive me."

Adrahil waved his hand at her apology. "There is nothing to forgive, my dearest. You and Losdir shall have some privacy later on, but for now you must go and tell the news to your mother; I still need to have some words to this young man before the morning draws to an end." Ivriniel nodded and smiled at both men. "You may go now; and send your brother in when you leave."

Ivriniel stepped out into the hallway and closed the door. She jumped into Imrahil's inviting arms and laughed with joy. "He consented. He consented. He consented!"

Imrahil laughed with her and spun her around. "Congratulations, Ivriniel!"

She let go of her brother and grinned happily, wiping away her tears of joy. "I must go and tell Mother. Father will see you now."

Ivriniel practically ran down the hallway towards her mother's chamber. When she arrived, she did not wait for her mother's secretary to announce her; she burst into the room, causing her mother's ladies to jump in fright and let out small shrieks. "I am so sorry, I did not mean to alarm anyone," Ivriniel said loudly. "Mother, I have wonderful news!"

Lady Anneth, the calm and patient woman she was, rose from her chair by the large window, placed her embroidery down, and waved her ladies out of the room. Once they were alone, she walked over to her daughter. "Tell me, my daughter, what is so wonderful that it has you bursting into your mother's chamber?"

Ivriniel grabbed her mother's hands and laughed. "Lord Losdir has just asked Father for my hand in marriage! And Father consented!"

Lady Anneth covered her mouth in surprise. "Is it true?"

"Yes, Mother!" Ivriniel said, embracing her mother. "I am so happy!"

Her mother laughed with joy and held her daughter close. "Oh, Ivriniel I could not be happier for you. I had feared that your youth would be wasted before you found a husband." She let go of her daughter and placed her hand on Ivriniel's cheek. "Sweetheart, did I not tell you that Lord Losdir was a fine young man?"

Ivriniel remembered the night when Losdir had dined with her family. She nodded happily. "You were right, Mother; you are always right."

"It is a mother's instinct, nothing more," Lady Anneth replied, smiling. "One day soon, you will be blessed with a child; then you will understand the instincts of a mother."

Ivriniel smiled. "Perhaps not too soon, for Losdir and I must marry first."

Her mother chuckled. "Knowing your father, he will not want to delay the wedding any more than it should. Your father loves a celebration; you shall be married early in the New Year."

"I hope so," Ivriniel said, "for I do not believe I can be patient in this matter for long."

"Patience is a virtue," her mother said warmly. "Everyone knows that." Lady Anneth stepped away from her daughter and rang her bell. Her secretary entered the room and bowed. "Will you fetch Finduilas for me and then send for the palace seamstress to my chambers; I have need of her services." She turned to Ivriniel. "No more hand-me-downs for you, Sweetheart. You shall have a new gown made just for you to wear at your betrothal ceremony."

Ivriniel smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Mother."

"Come," her mother said, gesturing towards her bedchamber, "let us pick out what jewels you shall wear; you must look your best."


	6. True Meaning of the Heart

"You're getting married!" Finduilas screamed with delight as she embraced Ivriniel in their mother's bedchamber. "This is so wonderful!" Finduilas wiped her eyes, crying tears of joy. "I am so happy for you!"

Ivriniel laughed merrily. "Thank you, Sister. I appreciate your enthusiasm."

Finduilas embraced her older sister once more and laughed lightly.

"Now, now, girls," their mother said, watching her daughters with such admiration. Lady Anneth felt blessed to not only have two beautiful and dignified daughters, but also two girls who grew up together getting along and never fighting. It was a beautiful imagery for any mother to see her daughters embrace in love and friendship.

"Mother, we must tell the court," Finduilas said excitedly. "We must start making arrangements for the betrothal ceremony, and the feast to commemorate the joining of the House of Pinnath Gelin and the House of Dol Amroth. What about the wedding plans?" Finduilas turned to Ivriniel. "Are you planning on being wed in the great hall? Or do you want the ceremony to be more public?"

Ivriniel felt overwhelmed with all the questions. She blinked. "I... uh... I am not sure." She turned to their mother. "Surely Father will be arranging all that."

Lady Anneth picked up a large jewellery box. "It will be your wedding, Ivriniel; you will have as much say in what goes on as your Father and Grandfather. Now here, look at these. Pick out which jewels you want to wear on your wedding day."

Ivriniel sat at the thick, round wooden table where her mother had placed the jewellery box. She opened the heavy lid and slightly gasped at the sparkling variety of jewels. "There are so many to choose from!" she said, picking up a necklace with small, teardrop emeralds. "I do not even know what colour my wedding gown is going to be."

Finduilas and their mother took a seat on either side of Ivriniel. "What is your favourite colour?" her mother asked, gently taking the emerald necklace from her daughter's grasp.

"I do like shades of green," she confessed. "Green is the colour of the forestry flourishing around Dol Amroth; green is the colour that shows fauna is healthy, and a sign to know that the lands you so dearly love are well looked after." Ivriniel stopped talking, feeling as if she were rambling. Then, a hint of red appeared on her cheeks. "Green is also Losdir's livery."

"Ahh," Finduilas said, grinning. "So you wish to wear shades of green on your wedding day?"

Ivriniel nodded enthusiastically. "Very much so."

"Well in that case," their mother said, turning the jewellery box to her. "You should not wear green jewels; I would advise silvers and blues."

"I suppose so," Ivriniel replied, thinking it over. "I was also thinking of wearing my hair down."

"Yes," said Finduilas, nodding vigorously. "You look your prettiest with your hair down."

"Now, now," Lady Anneth said, waving her finger at Finduilas. "Your sister always looks pretty, no matter how her hair is."

"I never said she did not look pretty with her hair up," Finduilas protested, "I said she looked her prettiest with it down."

Their mother pursed her lips with a frown on her face. "You should wear these sapphire earrings; they were a gift to me from your Father after I had given birth to you."

"Oh," Ivriniel said, being handed the earrings. "They are so lovely." Each earring had a large, round-cut sapphire set on a silver base, with a small seed-shaped pearl hanging below each sapphire. "These pearls are fresh-water."

"Yes," their mother said, "from the River Gilrain."

Ivriniel placed the earrings gently on the table. "Perhaps I should choose the rest of my jewels after I have had a fitting for my wedding dress."

"The fitting will have to take place in the next two weeks," her mother replied smoothly. "In the mean time, you will have to meet with your father and grandfather to arrange a list of guests who shall be attending." Lady Anneth paused in thought for a moment. "Perhaps you should consider inviting the Steward Ecthelion and his son, Lord Denethor."

"Yes," Ivriniel said thoughtfully. "I would not mind that. I do, however, not expect them to attend, for Dol Amroth is quite far away from the City of Kings."

"Steward Ecthelion has been known for his liking of travel," Lady Anneth replied. "His daughter, Lady Tatiel is married to Lord Angbor; the heir to the House of Lamedon. The steward remained in Lamedon after the wedding while his son, Denethor returned and ruled on his father's behalf."

"I did not know stewards were allowed to take trips away from state matters," Finduilas said curiously. "If so, then why has he not come here, to Dol Amroth? It has been years since he has last visited, and Dol Amroth is by far the most beautiful place in all of Middle-earth!"

Ivriniel chuckled. "My dear sister, you can be a little bias towards our homeland. But I do agree with you; Dol Amroth is such a breath-taking place."

"A steward can take trips and progresses through Gondor," their mother said, answering Finduilas' original query. "But you know Gondor is such a large and powerful kingdom, that he must live in Minas Tirith as often as he can."

Finduilas frowned deep in thought. "Gondor is not really a kingdom nowadays; it should really be called a... a stewardom."

Ivriniel stared blankly at her sister. "Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that pretty little heard of yours, Sister."

Finduilas gently hit her sister's wrist. "Tut, tut, Ivriniel – you should not make fun of your little sister," she said sweetly.

"How about we return to our original topic," their mother interjected her voice patient with a hint of assertiveness.

"I agree," Ivriniel replied quickly. "I would like my wedding gown to be traditional in layers. I am imagining the kirtle to be a rich, deep emerald green; the split of the kirtle revealing the shift to be a softer green."

"What colour will the bodice be?" Finduilas asked. "Will you wear it under or over the kirtle?"

Ivriniel scrunched up her nose in thought. "I am thinking under for now, with the laces of the kirtle nicely loosened to reveal it. Or perhaps I will have the bodice sewn into the kirtle with no front laces."

"I would advise wearing a belt of silver," their mother added. "You shall have a new pair of shoes in silver, too."

Ivriniel nodded. "I would like to wear a pearl hair chain since I intend on wearing my hair down. I have a stunning hair chain I received from Grandfather on my birthday. It would please him to see me wearing it on my wedding day."

Her mother smiled warmly. "It would make him proud; but his pride in you will already be there knowing that you are going to be wed."

Ivriniel nodded again. "I think I am in need of some rest. This morning has exhausted me; I shall rest until the midday meal."

"Of course," her mother said, standing up. She walked over to her eldest daughter and kissed both her cheeks. "Congratulations, my dear."

"Come to my apartments at midday," Finduilas said, standing up also. "You can dine with me." Ivriniel nodded again, feeling very obedient to those around her.

When Ivriniel arrived in her own bedchamber, she pushed her long hair behind her shoulders and flopped onto her neatly made bed. By the sun's position in the sky, Ivriniel knew she only had a couple of hours left before the noon bell would ring throughout the city, most likely waking her in the process. She turned her head to the side and stared at the pillow next to the one she was resting on. She imagined having Losdir there, beside her, holding her, feeling his body heat through their clothing. She was never the romantic type; that was Finduilas' role between them. But the thought of having Losdir in her bed, living in her apartments did appeal to her so greatly that she felt her cheeks burning at the thought. She smiled – her mother was right; she would be married in only a few months - six at the most. Once her father set his mind to something, it would end up being accomplished at soon as possible; so his daughter's wedding would be no exception. She wondered if Losdir was still in her father's study; most likely, for her father would never let him go that easily. There would be plans to make; Losdir would need to write to his family in Pinnath Gelin. His quarters in the knights' lodgings would have to be emptied. There was no way her father or her in that matter would allow a future family member to be lodging outside the palace. Losdir would be given a small apartment – probably consisting of only three rooms – somewhere in the back wing of the guest section in the palace.

Good, Ivriniel thought, rolling over on to her side; she wanted Losdir closer to her. Sure, they were betrothed – well not officially. But part of her began to rethink the whole... speed of how it happened. She had only known Losdir for a few months. How long did it take to fall in love? A day? A minute? Just one look? It was a question that baffled Man since the dawn of time. Ivriniel thought love to be a connection, a desire... curiosity. Curiosity drew her to Losdir that day at the docks. It was a connection that made her search for him in the crowd at court. And it was desire that made her declare her love for him the previous night. It all linked in some way. Maybe she did not have a choice; maybe people could not choose who they fell in love with. Perhaps the Valar chose for them; they could see all, hear all. They, out of all beings in existence would know who the right match for her was.

Ivriniel's thoughts and frets made her fall into an easy slumber, and the noon bell kept to its promise of waking her up at midday. She groaned, feeling worse than she did before she fell asleep. Her nap did not feel... fitful or fulfilling. She still wanted to sleep, but Finduilas was expecting her for lunch. The things sisters would do for each other.

Fortunately, lunch went rather quickly. Finduilas was not in the best of moods, as their father still had not reached a decision concerning Lord Agoron marrying Finduilas. Ivriniel knew this would happen. Her father adored Finduilas dearly, and she doubted their father would give her up to some common birth, high-rising sailor. Still, seeing her little sister morose over lunch made Ivriniel's heart clench with empathy. If their father had delayed his decision for her to wed Losdir, she would feel exactly as Finduilas did. It must be agony for her, she thought, watching Finduilas nibble on a piece of apple.

Ivriniel left Finduilas to her thoughts and headed outside to get some fresh air. The sunlight beamed through the arched windows in the corridor, allowing the newly afternoon sunlight warm the palace walls. Autumn brought long and narrow shadows, making sharp triangle shaped shade on the deep blue hallway runner.

"Ivriniel."

She sighed with contentment, hearing his voice. "Losdir," she said, turning around. "Have you been in Father's study all this time?"

Losdir walked up to her and kissed her knuckle before pulling her into his arms, kissing her soundly. "I have," he replied, his voice deep. "But with good reason. Plans must be made now; he intends on having our betrothal ceremony tomorrow evening in the great hall."

Ivriniel stepped out of his arms, her eyebrows raised. "So little time; how are we going to let the court know in due course?"

"Lord Adrahil does not plan on telling them," Losdir answered, a grin on his face. Ivriniel felt her breath catch in her throat. He was so handsome! His face was clean shaved, like most of the men of Numenor decent, giving off an elven appeal. Almost every noble house of Gondor had Numenor blood.

"I... uh... have been talking with my mother and sister about what I should wear on our wedding day," Ivriniel finally managed to say.

"Well then, if it is any consolation, I believe you will look beautiful in anything, any colour, any fabric," he said, running his fingers through her long hair.

"Would you like to go for a walk along the beach?" she asked, feeling heat rising in her cheeks. She was still so new to these emotions of love, longing, and desire. "The tide should still be out," she continued, grabbing his hand in her hair and kissing it. A small gesture of her affections was needed to reassure him... surely? "Part of her still felt they had rushed the whole ordeal, that they truly did not know each other well. What if he turned out to be abusive and ended up hitting her? No. No! she said to herself, stop thinking of the worst conclusion. She snapped out of her thoughts and noticed Losdir was offering his arm. She smiled quickly and linked her arm into his. It did feel nice being close to him, smelling a musky scent of leather.

They reached the shoreline after a decent stroll. As Dol Amroth was situation on a cliff, jagged rocks, and rock islands surrounded the peninsula. The only place where there was a shoreline with sand was almost an eight-hundred meter walk downhill, with curves, stairs, railings, and pebbled pathways. It was not a walk you would take if you were injured or in an extremely bad mood.

"I wanted to talk to you," Losdir said as their feet found soft sand.

Ivriniel felt her heart skip a beat. He wanted to talk? She was nervous, period. "Go on," she said, her voice a little shaky.

"Your father asked me to invite my family to our wedding," he started, "but... well the truth is, I left my homeland because of them." Ivriniel frowned and opened her mouth to speak, but Losdir raised a hand to silence her. "I love them, truly I do. But my brother and father do not... they see me as the other son, a replacement. My brother, Maindir is betrothed to wed Mistress Ruives mid-next year. She is from the town Talath along the coastline of Anfalas. Their union will be nothing more than political. Father wants her lands and dowry. Maindir has never met her before, nor does he appear too concerned about whether or not he will like her. He wants to please our father, which is understandable. However, I believe deep down my brother is scared out of his wits. He has no idea what she looks like or how she will react around him. Of course, her father praises her, as any man would do to try to wed his daughter into a more noble house. It's a shame, but in a way I feel grateful to be the second son." Losdir stopped walking and turned to face Ivriniel. He kissed her nose. "I was able to travel here and meet a wonderful woman. The fact that you are a princess does not matter to me." Losdir hesitated. "But my father will be very, very happy towards this marriage; it will be happiness of the wrong sorts. He will not be happy for me to have found love, but more happy that I have been accepted into the House of Dol Amroth."

Ivriniel nodded. She was speechless. Never before had he opened up so much of his personal life to her.

"I wanted you to hear all of that from me, and not some witless fool – most likely my brother – from Pinnath Gelin." Losdir kissed her deeply, pulling her close to him. "I love you."

"I am glad you told me and trusted me enough to do so," she replied, wrapping her arms around his back. "And I think I should not heed anything your brother or father may say when I finally meet them... if they come at all."

"Oh, they will come," Losdir said, a shadow covering his face. "They would not miss our wedding. Even if Gondor was falling and the Dark Lord rising in power, they would find some ridiculous route to Dol Amroth, and then demand that the wedding take place despite the chaos taking place."

"I highly doubt the Dark Lord will rise on our wedding day," Ivriniel said, grinning. "Then again, it would be ironic now, would it not?"

Losdir laughed. Oh, she loved his laugh! "We shall not speak of it again until after our wedding night."

Wedding night. Oh, she had not even thought about that. She felt herself blush. "I am sure the sun will rise brightly the morning after," she said, suppressing her nervousness.

Losdir ran his fingers through her hair once more. "I love your hair, Ivriniel. It is so soft."

She smiled. "I will be wearing it down on our wedding day."

Losdir smiled. "Good! I shall like that." She was about to say that Finduilas thought her to look prettier with her hair down, but Ivriniel knew what Losdir's answer to that would be. She smiled to herself, thinking how blessed and lucky she was to have found him.


	7. A Wedding, A New Beginning

Dol Amroth: February 2975

Winter

Four months. It had taken four months to arrange the wedding. February the twentieth was their wedding date. The betrothal ceremony had been a small court affair consisting of only two-hundred people. Of course, on her wedding day, Ivriniel was expecting double that number. She had been nervous all through those four months. She did not like large crowds, and knowing she would soon be the focus of a large gathering, made her stomach turn in all different directions. Her knees felt weak, the tips of her fingers began to tingle as she breathed short, quick breaths. She was having a panic attack.

"For the love of Ulmo!" Finduilas cried, running over to her sister's side. "Sit down immediately or you shall end up fainting and hitting your head." Finduilas had been a wonderful assistant for her during those painstaking months. Her little sister had been patient and listened with a soothing presence to her fears and frets. Ivriniel's main concern had been the wedding gown. Seamstresses had drawn dozens of sketches, but Ivriniel hated them all. She knew she was being fussy, overly fussy, as Finduilas had called her. But Ivriniel wanted her wedding gown to be prefect in her own way. So she ended up designing it by herself. She spent one night sitting by the fireplace, scrunching up parchments that had mistakes, throwing them into the fire, until she finally mastered the perfect design. Ironically, her gown ended up looking nothing like how she first pictured it. It was silver, trimmed with dark blue, with pearls sewn onto the underskirt; the kirtle and underskirt were made out of fine silks from the south. Ivriniel spent countless days standing on a platform while the seamstresses measured her and started making the gown. In the end, the gown looked perfect with her new silver shoes and belt; also, her mother chose a set of sapphire jewellery to match the blue hemming. It all worked out in the end.

Now, Ivriniel sat on a cushion in her antechamber, taking in deep breaths to calm herself; the fact that her corset had been tightened beyond breath capabilities did not help. Finduilas walked over to her, kneeling with a goblet of water. "Here," she said, placing the goblet in Ivriniel's hands. "Take only small sips until you are feeling well again."

"Thank you," Ivriniel croaked. She assessed her sister; Finduilas dazzled the eye with her beautiful satin gown of deep mahogany. It was not a new gown; their parents would only allow Ivriniel new things for the event. It was suppose to make Ivriniel feel extra special on the day, knowing that she was the only one receiving new gowns and jewels. Honestly, Ivriniel did not care either way. In any case, she ended up giving Finduilas some of her old gowns and traditional Gondorian hoods and headdresses. It was nothing new for Ivriniel to give Finduilas her old things, but Finduilas – being the typical girl – loved receiving them.

"We must be ready to leave for the great hall in fifteen minutes," Finduilas said, standing up. "I do pray that you will have recovered by then."

"Give me some wine, please," Ivriniel said, placing the goblet of water aside, "a lot of wine."

Finduilas frowned. "Are you planning on walking down the aisle drunk?"

Ivriniel glared at her sister. "No! If I have some wine I will feel more relaxed and it will soothe my nerves."

Finduilas nodded. "Very well."

There was a knock on the door; Imrahil entered dressed in layers of blue and black. His cloak was draped over his shoulders. "Sisters."

"Imrahil," Ivriniel said, here brows raised high. "You look... so clean."

Imrahil let his mouth drop at her remark. "Excuse me? When do I not look clean?"

"These past months you have been out at sea quite a bit," Ivriniel said. "You always return shabby looking. All the men do."

"The high-seas are a rough place to be," Imrahil said, taking a seat by the fire. "They are not for the faint hearted."

"Hmm." Ivriniel gladly accepted the flask of wine and drank deeply.

Imrahil frowned. "Do you plan...?"

"No I do not!" she shouted. "I will be perfectly sober for my wedding."

"Then do not drink too deeply," he retorted.

"Have you come to my apartments to direct sly comments at me, or have you come for a purpose?" she asked, soothing the annoyance out of her voice.

"Peace," Imrahil said, holding up his hands. "I have only come to wish you well before Father arrives to escort you." He stood up and smiled. "You look beautiful."

Ivriniel smiled. "Forgive me, Brother. My nerves are getting the best of me."

Imrahil nodded. "If it is any consolation, Losdir is just as nervous." Imrahil frowned, puzzled. "However, I believe his nerves are coming from his concern towards his family, not the actual ceremony. He has sailed smoothly these past four months through all the planning. He has been a wonderful help!" Imrahil grinned. "I like him! You could not have chosen any better."

Ivriniel smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Imrahil. That means so much to me."

"The Steward of Gondor and his son, Lord Denethor have only just arrived," Imrahil said. "In the nick of time." He spoke his last remark under his breath.

"Truly," Finduilas said, interested. "I honestly did not think they would make it."

"It was nice of them to attend," Ivriniel said thoughtfully. "I shall have to personally thank them during the reception. You know, I have never spoken to Lord Denethor."

"You are not missing too much," Imrahil replied. "He is rather... dull. Well, what I refer to is I have absolutely nothing in common with the man. He does not serve in the military; he has no interest in sailing or fishing. The only thing I can talk to him about is politics. And right now, politics is not my most favourite topic."

"I am sure he is interesting in his own way," Finduilas said. "I remember talking to him years ago when I was still a girl. "I do, however remember he did not carry a sword. I found that odd."

"He is carrying one today," Imrahil said. "Perhaps I should invite him down to the training grounds tomorrow. I would like to see how good he can wield it. Personally, I see it a crime to wear a sword but to never use it in your lifetime."

"Oh, Brother," Ivriniel said, taking another swig of her wine, "do not say anything that will insult the next Steward of Gondor."

"Well, I have to sit next to him at the reception, what else am I going to say to the man?" he asked, exasperated. "I will make him the offer to come and train with me tomorrow." Imrahil grinned broadly. "Do you want to make bets to see if he will actually accept?"

"No!" Ivriniel said wearily.

"Yes!" Finduilas said excitedly.

"You should come and watch, Finduilas," Imrahil replied, laughing. "Agoron will be there."

At the sound of Agoron's name, Finduilas' smiled faded. "He has not spoken to me often these past months. I do not believe he loves me as he once did."

"Do not say that," Imrahil answered quickly. "Trust me; he loves you more than ever. And he is determined to make you his wife." Imrahil sighed heavily. "Father is only being... protective of you. Remember, you are his youngest daughter."

"But I am an adult!" Finduilas cried. "I am old enough to be wed. Why can it not be Agoron?"

Ivriniel could think of a hundred reasons why her sister should not wed Agoron, but decided it best to keep her mouth shut.

"Father has been busy with Ivriniel's wedding arrangements," Imrahil said. "One wedding is enough, for now."

"You are right," Finduilas said, taking a seat next to Ivriniel. She placed a hand over her sister's. "It is only natural for the older sister to be wedded and bedded first."

Ivriniel smiled shyly and blushed. Tonight she would indeed be wedded and bedded. She looked up at her brother. "Imrahil, may I ask you something... personal?"

"You may," he answered, quite curious.

"Are you... have you... bedded a woman?" she asked.

Finduilas frowned, her mouth ajar. Imrahil only laughed. "Indeed I have, Sister. Let me assume: you want to know what it's like?"

Ivriniel nodded shyly. "Please."

Imrahil raised his eyebrows with a thoughtful expression plastered over his face. "I must say, I cannot exactly tell you how it feels from a woman's point of view. I have never bedded a-a maiden before. What do you wish to know?"

Ivriniel frowned. "I suppose I want to know how it feels."

"Hmm." Imrahil raked his fingers through his hair. "You should have asked Mother."

"Never!" Ivriniel said, gasping. "How could I bring up such a topic with Mother?"

"Well I am sorry, Ivriniel," Imrahil said, looking apologetic. "Tonight you shall have to enter the bedchamber blindly. I cannot help you."

Ivriniel groaned. "I am so nervous about it."

"I am sure Losdir will understand," Finduilas said soothingly. "He will know that it will be new to you."

"But I hate that feeling of not knowing what to do," she complained. "Knowing me, I will make a mess of the whole act."

Imrahil laughed aloud. "The whole act ends in a mess!"

"Ergh," Finduilas said, frowning. "Brother!"

Ivriniel laughed nervously. "He means well."

Another series of knocks was heard on the door. Their father, Adrahil entered, dressed in an outfit of black and silver. "Daughter," he said, eyeing Ivriniel with much admiration. "You look breathtaking. Your appearance will most likely cause Losdir to forget his lines."

Finduilas and Imrahil laughed, but Ivriniel began to feel all the more nervous. Her father's presence meant that time was going fast. Soon, very soon she would be walking up the aisle towards her future; a future that she wanted, but one she was nervous to enter into. "When do we leave?" she asked.

"As soon as you are ready," Adrahil replied. He turned to his two youngest offspring. "You two better be off; do not forget your places during the ceremony."

"I know, I know," Finduilas said, standing up. "I must stand on the side, behind Ivriniel through the whole ceremony, and then follow her train down the aisle once it's all over."

"And I must remain next to you, Father, through the whole ceremony, and then follow you down the aisle once it's all over," Imrahil said, copying his sister's way of speaking.

"Hmm," Adrahil said, eyeing the two of them. "Be gone!"

Ivriniel looked at her flask of wine, but decided not to drink any more. Fortunately, her body handled wine rather well. She stood up – did not feel the slightest dizzy – and felt quite relaxed with the world. "I am ready, Father."

Adrahil beamed with delight. "Wonderful. Everybody has just taken their seats, and your mother has already started shedding tears."

Ivriniel groaned. "Oh, Father! I wish you did not tell me that. Now I may end up teary."

"You better not weep!" Adrahil said, his eyes twinkling. "Swollen eyes are only permitted for your mother today, understood?"

Ivriniel giggled. "Yes, Father; I understand." She linked her arm into his and set out of the antechamber. The great hall was several corridors away, but the noise of the waiting crowd could be heard once she stepped outside her apartments. "How many people have shown up?"

"Just over five hundred," her father answered. "This is a very important day for Gondor, to have one of its princesses wedded."

Ivriniel took a deep breath, praying to the Valar that the wine would keep working. "Father, was Mother nervous on your wedding day?"

"Yes," Adrahil answered. "I believe every woman is. Ulmo praise your mother; she kept her calm through the whole procedure, and then stated weeping once our union was sealed by the kiss. They were tears of joy, of course."

Ivriniel smiled. "Was she embarrassed?"

"Yes," he replied. "But I love her, and I did not care either way. Everyone expresses their emotions in their own fashion."

They reached the great doors that led into the hall. Ivriniel's grip on her father's arm tightened. She took a deep breath, thinking it would be ironic to end up fainting halfway down the aisle. "So many voices," she said, listening to all the noise behind the doors.

"Be calm," her father said, kissing the side of her forehead. "I will be by your side the whole time."

Ivriniel nodded, hearing the trumpets sound from within the hall. It was time. The two guards at the doors swung them open, revealing a long aisle with a dark blue runner. The crowd of people stood from their seats, their faces turned to the entrance doors, watching her. Oh, dear Valar. Ivriniel took another calming breath, exhaling slowly. She did not want her nerves to be visible to those hundreds of watching eyes. She felt her father start walking. She followed, keeping her grip on his arm as tightly as possible. Music sounded from the gallery above the hall; it was soft and sweet. She had her eyes rested on the man at the end of the aisle. Losdir was standing there, smiling, watching her. His father, Lord Hirluin was standing behind his son, staring at his future daughter-in-law. Eyes, so many eyes, she thought, keeping her gaze fixed on her future husband.

Then there she was, standing before Losdir. She could not refrain herself from smiling; she was so happy! Her grandfather, who was conducting the ceremony, stood on the altar and spoke: "Who gives this Woman to be bonded to this Man?"

Her father unhooked his arm and placed her right hand on Angelimir's. "I give thee my daughter," her father spoke. He stepped away from them both and stood beside Imrahil. Angelimir placed his granddaughter's right hand on Losdir's right hand.

Angelimir stood before them on the altar and addressed the crowd. "To all whom bear witness this day! We are gathered here together in the sight of the almighty Valar, to join this Man and this Woman in the binding of life. At this day of union, if any man challenges or declare any hindrance or cause as to why the Laws of this Realm may not bind them together in nuptials, then let them speak now or forever hold their tongues."

The crowd remained silent while Angelimir kept the serenity for several moments. He turned to Losdir and spoke: "Lord Losdir of Pinnath Gelin, do you take this Woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together in the sacred union of bondage? Will thou love her, comfort, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Losdir answered.

Angelimir turned to his granddaughter. "Princess Ivriniel of Dol Amroth, do you take this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together in the sacred union of bondage? Wilt thou obey him, and serve, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live?"

"I will," Ivriniel replied, feeling more relaxed now that she no longer had to face all those watchful eyes.

"It is now time for the exchanging of vows," Angelimir declared. "Lord Losdir, if you will please."

Losdir turned to face Ivriniel and smiled encouragingly. "I, Losdir, take Ivriniel to be my wedded wife. I vow, from this day forward to love thee, for better or for poorer, in sickness or in health; I promise to care and cherish you till death do us part."

"Ivriniel, if you may," Angelimir spoke softly.

Ivriniel took a deep breath and smiled, despite her nerves rising. "I, Ivriniel, take Losdir, to be my wedded husband, I vow, from this day forward to love thee, for better or for poorer, in sickness and in health; I promise to care and obey you till death do us part."

Angelimir handed Losdir and Ivriniel a silver wedding band each, and the whole hall watched as the rings were exchanged, being placed on each other's fourth finger on the left hand. "Bless these Rings, and those who wear them, Valar give and receive them, and may they be forever faithful to one another, to live and grow old together, and seeing their children's children." Angelimir blessed the rings.

It was almost over; Ivriniel knew this. All that was left was the hand fasting, and then the celebrations would begin. She needed more wine, for she could feel the effects of it starting to wear off. Her nerves were rising again, and now, out of the corner of her eye, she could see the large crowd before her, watching eagerly. Please be over, she thought to herself, please be over.

A rope of gold and silver threading was wrapped around their hands. "Let the powers of the mind guide you both through marriage. Be close to one another, but not too close. Possess each other, yet be understanding. Have patience, for storms will come, but they will pass quickly if you shall will it. Be free in giving affection and warmth. May your mornings bring joy and your evenings bring peace. May your troubles grow fewer as your blessings increase. May the Valar blessing rest upon you both. We pray that your coming days are of happiness and rejoice." Angelimir finished the hand fasting blessing. "On behalf of all those who have witnessed this day, we bless you and keep you in good company. May the Valar protect you and your children. Address this crowd before you as husband and wife."

The hand fasting rope being unwrapped, Losdir – still holding Ivriniel's hand – kissed her sweetly on the lips, securing their final bond. They turned around to face the crowd, causing a great cheer to erupt. Ivriniel, her nerves dissipated, laughed with delight as flower petals fell onto them from above. She turned her face towards Losdir and grinned. Everything was so perfect! Her grandfather gestured for them to start heading down the aisle.

"You look so beautiful," Losdir murmured as they made their way down the aisle. People were shouting words of congratulations, but it was hard to decipher each one, as many people packed the side of the aisle, trying to get a closer glimpse of the newly wedded couple. Ivriniel quickly looked behind her. Finduilas winked, giggling. She seemed to be enjoying all the attention her sister's train was receiving. As they exited the hall, they were to wait out in the large reception room while the hall was quickly transformed into a banquet hall. Majority of the crowd had to remain behind and help with the preparations, but enough people exited with the wedding party to overwhelm Ivriniel with conversation.

Lord Corinir of Pelargir and Lebennin was there with his wife, Lady Maidhel. Ivriniel liked them both, receiving an embrace from Lady Maidhel.

"You look rejuvenated, my old friend," Lady Maidhel said, smiling brightly. "I am so happy for you, both of you!"

"I wish you both many, many children!" Lord Tarondor said, approaching her with his arm around his wife's waist.

"And may I inquire as to how many children you have now?" Ivriniel asked as Losdir was whisked away by his father and brother.

"Five," Tarondor said, beaming with pride. His beloved wife, Lady Duvaimes was blushing scarlet red. "Our beautiful daughter, Angwen was born only last year."

"I congratulate you both," Ivriniel said. "I would love to have a daughter."

"Well I do not see why you should not have one," Lady Duvaimes said. "I assure you, having a daughter is a wonderful gift to receive from the Valar. I have fortunate to have been blessed with two." Lady Duvaimes turned to her husband and smiled. "And we hope for another darling girl in the near future."

Ivriniel laughed. "I wish you all the best in that."

"So far we have needed no luck with producing children," Lord Tarondor said, laughing himself. "We seem to have a child every year or every two years."

Finduilas hooked her arm into Ivriniel's. "Congratulations, my dear, sweet sister!" She kissed Ivriniel pleasantly on the cheek. "The ceremony was perfect! Nothing went wrong!"

"Were you expecting something to go wrong?" Ivriniel queried.

"Anything is possible," Finduilas said. She turned from Ivriniel and started watching their father talk to the steward.

Ivriniel noticed the frown growing on Finduilas' face. "What is it?"

Finduilas turned her attention back to her sister. "Nothing." She smiled brightly. "Come, the hall is ready for us to dine now."

Losdir approached and kissed her cheek. "Sweetheart," he said as Finduilas walked away with a huge grin on her face. The newly wedded couple led the guests into the great hall and made their way up to the altar where they were to sit in their honorary seats. Spiced wine was served immediately with platters of assorted fruits, cheeses, and olives. Ivriniel was surprised to see Finduilas taking a seat next to her, for it was tradition for the bride's father or mother to be seated next to her. Ivriniel peered passed Losdir and noticed her father had taken a seat next to him, making Losdir's own father sit further down the table. Where was her mother?

"Finduilas," she whispered, tugging at her sister's sleeve, "where is Mother?"

Her sister's face darkened. "Mother began experiencing her pains again just after the ceremony ended. She has retired to her chambers for her health's safety."

Ivriniel felt a lump growing in her throat. Her own mother was not with her at the celebratory of her wedding. "How bad is it?" she asked, forcing herself not to weep.

"It is nothing worse than before," Finduilas replied, sipping her wine. "Father wanted me to be seated next to you. I do not think he could bear to be the one to tell you this. It affects him deeply."

Ivriniel nodded. "I understand. I shall visit Mother later, when I get the chance. I want to speak to her before I retire for the evening."

Finduilas nodded and scanned the crowd before them, looking for Agoron. "He is seated with Imrahil down the end of our table," Ivriniel murmured to her. "Will you focus on something else for a change?"

Finduilas sighed deeply; she turned away from her sister and started a conversation with their grandfather. Ivriniel turned to Losdir. "You handled the ceremony rather well," she said, taking some grapes.

"It was a rather large audience than I had expected," he remarked, looking at everyone in the hall. "Nevertheless, I am honoured to be your husband."

Ivriniel blushed. "You honour me with your love, Losdir. I cannot thank you enough for making me happy."

He smiled and kissed her hand. "I love you."

...

Ivriniel did not get the chance to see her mother before she retired. Her whole evening was booked with people approaching the dais, wanting an audience with her and Losdir. She knew her mother would rather have her celebrating her newfound love with friends and family, and Ivriniel did just that. She laughed and talked joyously with Losdir and those at the table. Marriage was truly a blessed thing, she thought. She had not felt so... so close and open with Losdir before. She no longer felt nervous around him, or thought of dreadful situations that may result in her embarrassing herself. Everything was... perfect. His smile, the way he would hold her hand in that comforting way. She was truly blessed to be with him.

Now, Ivriniel sat on the edge of her bed in a new nightgown of soft cotton. Losdir was sitting next to her. Her heart was beating rapidly. Yet that single kiss he gave her as he ran his fingers through her hair, caused all around her to melt away into a hazy wave of pure delight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wedding vows and blessings are a combination of medieval weddings vows and blessings. I have mixed, changed, and replaced words. No copyright intended. Etc.


	8. Deep Remorse

Dol Amroth: March 2975

Spring

Fifteen glorious days, Ivriniel had been married to Losdir. Every new day was better than the last. Losdir had finally moved into her apartments, but was giving his own separate three room apartment two doors down the corridor. It was wonderful. Losdir continued his duties as a swan knight, but, as an elevation into the family, he was given status as an assistant captain, to Captain Alagosson. Besides their duties – Ivriniel herself, being an assistant to her mother while she was ill – they spent many hours together, cooped up in her apartments. Occasionally they would venture out to the shoreline, or even to the markets. But for now, they were quite content to be left alone to their haziness of pleasure behind closed doors. It was expected – for them to isolate themselves as newly wedded couples did – so nobody paid much attention to their long absences. Time pressed on and the wedding guests slowly departed, leaving notes and gifts of goodwill and well wishes. Among those to depart was Losdir's family. Ivriniel barely spoke to both men, for they always seemed 'unavailable' whenever she desired an audience with them. They were giving apartments in the guest wing of the palace, but servant gossip spread to Nan – Ivriniel's most trusted servant – and soon Ivriniel discovered that the men hardly spent the nights in the palace.

"Is it not odd," Ivriniel said, only days after their wedding. They were dinning in her antechamber, allowing the cool breeze of the evening flow the curtains up in the air, and then allowing them to fall gracefully to the floor, "Your father and brother have been noted to spend the nights away from the palace. Do they have lodgings elsewhere in the city?"

"My father is curious about starting up a... a private trade with some of the merchants along the port," Losdir replied, choosing his words carefully. "It is nothing... illegal. Your grandfather knows about it well enough. Winter is a hard time for the people in Pinnath Gelin. The snow is heavy and the livestock are constantly raided and tormented by bears, wolves, and other wild animals. Food sometimes becomes scarce. My father wishes only to help his people without seeking help personally from a higher lord."

Ivriniel nodded. "Still, why do they not sleep in the palace?"

Losdir shrugged. "That, I cannot answer. My father and brother keep mostly to themselves. Still, they will be leaving in a week's time and out of your concern."

Ivriniel did not raise up his family as a topic any more after that conversation. Perhaps she was being overly cautious. She liked his father, Lord Hirluin. But he was so young. Not so young, but he had married when he was only fifteen. Not that it was a rare age for people to be wedded, but it usually happened among the more common people. Lord Hirluin was only nineteen when Losdir was born. Nineteen! Ivriniel could hardly believe it, and his wife had been younger! She could not even imagine being wedded, bedded, and a mother at that age. The whole prospect of carrying a child in her womb and then giving birth frightened her. Nevertheless, she did want a child.

Now, Ivriniel stood by Losdir's side in the front palace courtyard. It was time for Lord Hirluin and his son, Maindir to depart for Pinnath Gelin. Losdir was handling the departure rather well. She knew they were not close, but her new husband did not show the slightest hint of sadness.

"Farewell," Lord Hirluin said, embracing his youngest son. "You shall be missed, but I do hope that you and your lovely new wife will be able to travel to Anfalas for your brother's wedding."

"We shall see," Losdir replied, smiling uneasily. "My lady wife and I have many duties here in the city. You must send word when the wedding date has finally been set."

His father nodded, turning to Ivriniel. "Have a safe journey," she said as he kissed her hand. "I look forward to our next meeting."

"Hopefully it will be in the near future," Lord Hirluin replied. "Farewell."

Father and son left the front courtyard. Losdir stood there for several moments, watching them leave. Was it her imagination, or did Losdir seem troubled? She grabbed his hand and squeezed it; he turned to face her and offered her a forced smile. "Shall we?" he asked, leading the way back into the foyer of the palace.

"I do not wish to retire to our chambers," she said, halting them both. "Would you like to go out today? How about we take a ride in the countryside that surrounds the city?"

Losdir hesitated; he forced another smile. "If that is what you want, my dear."

Ivriniel knew he was making himself accept the proposal, but she knew it would do him good. "Yes, I want to go riding."

Losdir nodded his body tense. "I shall change my garments. I will meet you in the stables shortly."

Shortly - it turned into an hour, for Losdir decided to delay their plans by striking up a conversation with Imrahil. Ivriniel felt agitated. Yes, she knew there was something wrong, and it was personal. But she was his wife now. When he finally entered the stables he was met by his wife with an intense glare.

"I am only going to say this once," Ivriniel said, unfolding her arms. "I love you, Losdir. And my love for you will always make me tell you if there was something wrong. So tell me, does your love for me act in the same way with you?"

Losdir sighed heavily. "Forgive me, Ivriniel. You know I am not close to my family, and having them at our wedding was not something I wanted. You must understand that I do not, under any circumstance want to go to my brother's wedding. Never. I put my foot down on that. I love him as a brother, but as a person, I despise him. Maindir and I have never gotten along, and now he has decided it is in his best interest to turn Father against me. Well, not against me, but Father never listens to my council, he never asks to walk and talk with me as he once did. He takes heed to everything Maindir says, and in frustrates me!" Losdir's voice had risen considerably through his rant, causing the horses that stood by to shake their heads and stomp their hooves.

Ivriniel stood there shocked. She had not expected all that to come out of him. "I-I... why did you not tell me this earlier? If you did not want your brother at the wedding, you could have just said no."

Losdir shook his head. "Father would never have travelled all this way without him. Maindir is Father's life support these days. Besides, people would have talked."

Ivriniel rolled her eyes. "I don't care what people say." Losdir walked over and embraced her gently. "Do not keep these emotions from me."

Losdir kissed her hair. "Very well, my love. Now, come; do you still wish to go riding?"

Ivriniel's mood lifted. "Oh, yes; very much so!" She loved riding, yet found very little time to do so. She disliked travelling in winter, preferring to stay indoors by the fireside, sewing, or being of service to her father or grandfather. Spring and autumn were her favourite seasons. They were mixtures of winter and summer, bringing cool nights and warm, sunny days with a cool tinge in the ocean breeze.

Losdir assisted her in mounting her mare, then, after mounting his own steed, they set off out of the stables, down the cobbled lane that led out into the wider streets of the city. It was late midmorning and already the streets of Dol Amroth were buzzing with the daily lives of the common folk. Behind them, rode a couple of guards assigned to accompany them outside the city walls. Gondor was still living in a reasonable, yet tense peace, but the fiefdom of Belfalas had recently been raided by corsairs from the pirate haven of Umbar. These raids usually happened along the coastal region; they set fires to the houses and buildings, stealing horses, livestock, and other food supplies. Children were separated from the mothers; father slaughtered and the woman taken as slaves, or worse. These attacks were few, but growing in numbers. Ivriniel and Losdir were heading inland, but still, it was better to be safe and prepared whilst travelling beyond the city walls.

Despite the tension in the air, it was a beautiful day; the sun was beaming down on their faces, warming their skin, making them feel somewhat secure. To Ivriniel, warmness was to feel secure. Did you ever feel unsafe in the warmth of your bed? Or sitting by the fireside in your chamber, reading or sewing; did you ever feel uneasy? She felt the same way in sunlight.

The newly wedded couple broke their steeds into an easy trot along the stone road leading away from the city. Ivriniel had never been the best horsewoman, but she truly did love riding, even though it was a rare activity for her. They slowed down as they reached the nearest settlement, two miles away from Dol Amroth. It was nothing more than several houses, a stable, a barn, and an inn. The people were working in the fields, breaking in horses, and the children were watering plants and playing with the dogs. Ivriniel found herself curious to see how the people in her family's realm worked. The men and women in the fields looked up from the errands, shading their eyes from the sunlight. Perhaps they were as curious as she was, Ivriniel thought. Neither she nor Finduilas ever ventured beyond the city walls unless it was absolutely necessary to do so. So seeing a princess of the realm would have indeed spiked their curiosity. The children became distracted from their chores or games, and ran up along their horses, waving enthusiastically. Some of their mothers were trying to usher them away, their cheeks blushing with embarrassment. Ivriniel laughed and waved back at the children. She turned to Losdir and grinned.

"They are so precious," she said, touching a little boy's fingertips as he tried to reach her hand. "Children are absolute darlings, are they not?"

"Indeed they are," Losdir answered. "I had no idea you were so fond of children."

She waved goodbye to the children as they passed on away from the settlement. "I am not the most maternal woman in Gondor; I have hardly ever spent time with children. Neither of my siblings have children. And my cousins and other family members live so far away that they are nothing more than distant relatives that are known to have some sort of connection to the princedom family." She sighed. "I have next to no experience."

Losdir nodded and pointed towards a large oak tree in the distance. "Let us retire and sit under that tree."

Ivriniel waved for the guards to remain a reasonable distance away so she and Losdir could have some privacy. Losdir helped her dismount and led her over to the tree's thick trunk. He laid his cloak down for them to sit on. Ivriniel lent against the trunk and closed her eyes. She listened to the soft rustling sound of the tree's leaves in the cool breeze. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the serenity of life. Losdir had taken a place by her side, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Ivriniel lowered her head to rest on him. "I love days such as these."

Losdir shuffled in his position, placing his other arm on her cheek. He raised her head and kissed her soundly on the lips. No words were needed to be spoken, for their true feelings for another were sealed in silent harmony. Ivriniel broke the kiss, needing air. She placed her arms around his neck, drawing him in for another kiss. "I could stay like this forever," she whispered, rubbing her nose against his. "I love the countryside. We should build a house out here and live away from the busy streets of Dol Amroth and the constant threat of pirates."

Losdir moaned in agreement, kissing her once more. "Your plans sound tempting, but our duties lie within the city walls." Ivriniel sighed, defeated. She knew he was right. They both had important tasks to perform on the people's behalf. "Perhaps this house of yours can be a dream," Losdir continued. "Let us say; once we have had our first child, we can petition to your Grandfather for a loan to build your dream house. We can have our own tenants, so you will still be able to perform administrative duties, and I will travel the distance from here to Dol Amroth to perform my duties as assistant captain to Captain Alagosson."

Ivriniel looked hopefully into his eyes. "Are you certain?"

"I am," he said softly, caressing her cheek. "I will do anything to see you happy."

Ivriniel smiled. "You make me happy; you always will, Losdir."

...

They ventured back to the city in the early hours of the afternoon. They only returned because they were hungry. They ate in companionable silence in Ivriniel's antechamber. Of course, nothing wonderful can last forever; Nan hurried into the antechamber with another woman close behind. Ivriniel frowned with confusion. That other woman, she recognised, was Finduilas' chambermaid.

"My lady, your sister, Princess Finduilas is in need of you," Nan said, straightening her gown. "She is in her own apartments."

Ivriniel turned to face Losdir; he nodded that she should go quickly. Along the corridor, Ivriniel wanted to ask both ladies what was happening. Rarely did Finduilas seek out her sister's company through another; she always came to Ivriniel's apartments on her own accord. Something had to be wrong. Ivriniel entered Finduilas' antechamber while the two women remained outside. When she entered, she saw that Finduilas had thrown all the cushions from the seats onto the floor. Finduilas was nowhere to be seen, but soft sobbing could be heard from the bedchamber. Frowning with worry, Ivriniel hurried into the bedchamber to find her little sister lying on her bed, face in pillow, her shoulder shaking as she wept.

"Sister," Ivriniel said, her heart beating faster. "What is it?" Her face showed extreme concern. Finduilas never acted like this.

Finduilas lifted her face from the pillow; her eyes were swollen from weeping, her hair was falling out, as her headdress lay askew on her head. "He's sending me away."

Who was sending her away? Ivriniel was profoundly confused. "Sister, explain." She dragged a chair across the room to the bedside, sitting on it.

Finduilas leaned herself up on her elbow, wiping her cheeks. "Father is sending me away to be married!" Fresh tears began falling. "H-h... he... he is ma-marrying me off... t-t-to..." Finduilas flopped back onto the bed, sobbing into the pillow yet again.

"Who?" Ivriniel asked, persistent to find out. "Relax." She ran her hand down her sister's back, offering some comfort.

Finduilas lifted her head. "Lord Denethor. I have to marry Lord Denethor!" The last line Finduilas screamed. "I don't want to marry him! I love Agoron, not him!"

Ivriniel's eyes were wide, her mouth ajar. "When did this occur?"

Finduilas sniffed, wiping her cheeks once more. "This morning while you and Losdir were out riding; Father said he had something important to announce to the court." Finduilas sat up. "He did not even consult me before making the announcement. I had no idea! You should have seen Imrahil's face." Finduilas hiccupped. "Imrahil is refusing to speak to Father now."

"What has Mother to say in the matter?" Ivriniel asked.

"She supports it," Finduilas replied. "She says it's a great marriage. I will become the next Stewardess of Gondor." Finduilas let out a raging sigh. "I don't want to be a stewardess! I want to be me!"

"But," Ivriniel said, trying to make sense of the whole situation, "I thought Father was betrothing you to Lord Agoron."

Finduilas' eyes became wet again. "Oh, Agoron; he was there at court during the announcement. You should have seen his reaction. I tried to meet his gaze, but he refused to look at me." Tears were streaming down her cheeks again, but Finduilas paid no heed to them. "He must hate me."

Ivriniel did not know how to think. She was happy her sister was not going to wed Lord Agoron, but sad on her sister's behalf, for Finduilas was not able to marry the man she loved. Then again, her sister being wedded to the heir to the stewardship was a great match. All the noble women in Gondor had been hanging out for a marriage to Lord Denethor. Well, that is what Ivriniel had heard through gossip. Who knew how accurate gossip was? But Finduilas would have to leave Dol Amroth and live in Minas Tirith. That thought did not appeal to Ivriniel at all. "Whose idea was this?"

Finduilas shrugged her shoulders. "Father said it was Steward Ecthelion's idea, but I honestly do not know who to believe." She sniffed again, moved her knees up to her chest, and hugged them. "Ivriniel I do not want to live in Minas Tirith, let alone be married to a man twice my age. Think how horrible it sounds! I could be Lord Denethor's daughter!"

"You could still get out of the marriage." Ivriniel caught her breath in her throat. Had she just said that? Finduilas eyed her curiously. "I mean," she continued, "if the betrothal is not in contract..."

"Oh, it is," Finduilas replied warily. "If it were not, then Father would not have made the public announcement." Her little sister let out a groan of misery. "The wedding is to take place in March next year."

Ivriniel nodded. "Well then, you have a year to become accustomed to the idea."

Finduilas frowned. "Never! I will never allow myself to be known as a Lady of Minas Tirith. I am a Princess of Dol Amroth." She waved her arms around her. "This land, the sea is my home. How dare they choose to remove me from it? I-I cannot bear to even think of leaving the sea behind." Finduilas' eyes filled with horror. "And... and the Dark Land... it is near Minas Tirith; practically across the River."

"You must listen to reason," Ivriniel said, standing from her seat. She placed her hands on Finduilas' shoulders. "Listen." She gently shook her sister. "Whether you like it or not, this marriage will open great prospects to you. But I will miss you." Ivriniel felt a lump grow in her throat. She had to refrain herself from weeping, for Finduilas' sake. "I always imagined you and I would end up being married and living here, together in the palace, raising our children in the same nursery; our husbands becoming great friends and looking out for each other as they face the enemy. But, alas, Father has seen a different path for you. I really do not want you to go, Finduilas. But who dare deny the Steward of Gondor? He has absolute power, you know this."

Finduilas painfully closed her eyes and nodded. "Yes, you are right. I am not going to apologies for my actions. I truly do not want to go, and I will not be speaking to Father until he has apologised for making the announcement before approaching me on the matter."

Ivriniel nodded, fully understanding. "If he pulled that trick on me, I would have behaved just as you have done."

Finduilas held her sister's hand. "You will come with me to Minas Tirith when I have to..." Finduilas could not even finish her sentence. "How could he?" she whispered instead. "Lord Denethor... he is so... unapproachable. And in a year's time he will have to... to touch me in intimate ways. I must bear his children."

Ivriniel gave a deep, remorseful sigh. "I am so sorry, Finduilas. This is not how I imagined your life would turn out to be. If you were happy about the idea, then I would gladly see you leave Dol Amroth, for your sake alone. But not like this. Not Like this." She gave Finduilas a meaningful kiss on the cheek. "I want you to stop weeping; you need to be strong. Despite your aggression to this situation, I want you to make Father proud. Make him proud to have a daughter who can rise to any event."

Finduilas pondered for a moment; she nodded. "I will make him proud; I will make all of you proud. But I will never warm to the idea. Never."

Ivriniel left Finduilas' chamber an hour later, making sure her little sister was sleeping peacefully. She needed rest after that whole performance. Not that Ivriniel blamed her for acting that way. A thought crept into her mind – what if she had not met Losdir and instead of Finduilas, her father had offered her instead. A shiver ran through her body. She, like Finduilas could not bear the thought of leaving Dol Amroth behind to be placed into a loveless marriage, in a large city that overlooked an evil land. Poor Finduilas, she thought, slowly making her way back to her apartments. One year... one long and dreadful year of waiting for the inevitable.


	9. Where Destiny Leads

Dol Amroth: August 2975

Winter

Six glorious and peaceful months into her marriage, Ivriniel found herself standing in front of the mirror in her wardrobe, caressing her lower abdomen. She felt warmth inside of her that she had never felt before. She smiled, knowing that new life was growing within her. She had made the announcement only the previous day. Losdir was ecstatic. In their bedchamber, he fell to his knees and kissed her stomach. Their plan of building a house in the countryside was still fresh in their minds; her father and grandfather had consented to the idea, and plans were underway for building to begin in the New Year. Ivriniel was thrilled at the prospect of running her own household. She would be a fair and kind woman to the tenants, making sure that no one went hungry or cold through the winter seasons. She was also excited with the idea of having her own house while she had a child of her own. Being in charge of her own house meant that she could also be in control of her child's future; education, sports, functions – everything! She was truly looking forward to the day.

Everything could have been perfect for Ivriniel, if it were not for that thought in the back of her mind that kept telling her that Finduilas was leaving for Minas Tirith in only six months. Finduilas had given in to her stubbornness and forgiven their parents. Still, her little sister was acting cold towards the marriage. Lord Denethor had sent several letters, but they were written in a business form, nothing romantic, no loving promises. Finduilas read the letters, and thought it kind of him to even make the time to write to her. She seemed somewhat relieved that there was some sort of communication between them.

"He will not see me," Finduilas said as she sat with Ivriniel in a back courtyard. "Agoron has been at sea for four months now, keeping the Corsairs at bay."

"Well it is his duty to do so," Ivriniel replied, eating a piece of honey cake.

"He is avoiding me," Finduilas said insistently. "I can tell; he has not written to me."

"Have you written to him?" Ivriniel asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Well... n-no," Finduilas stammered. "I do not even know where to begin if I sat down and wrote him a letter."

"Perhaps he thinks you are avoiding him," Ivriniel suggested. "Or maybe Imrahil or Father has told him to stay away."

"They would never do that!" Finduilas cried. "They know I love him."

"You have to love Lord Denethor now," Ivriniel said, stating the obvious. "He is your future husband, not Lord Agoron."

"Oh, that is easy for you to say," Finduilas scorned. "You married the man you loved; if it were not for Lord Losdir travelling here to become a knight then you would be in my position."

Ivriniel narrowed her eyes. "Finduilas, never, ever say that again. None of this is my fault. I cannot see the future."

Finduilas sighed deeply. "I know; I am sorry. I just... I need someone to blame, and I am tired of blaming Father. I know he arranged this out of the goodness of his heart. I know he is only thinking what is best for me."

"You should feel flattered," Ivriniel said. "Lord Denethor is a hard man to talk to, yet he must have noticed you at my wedding, or else this proposal would never have arisen."

Finduilas groaned in frustration. "I wish I was wearing a sack that day! Then he would have noticed me for all the wrong reasons!"

Ivriniel could not help but laugh at her sister's remark. "Poor sister; I feel for you. But remember, I will be there by your side at your wedding. I shall speak to Losdir before we travel to Minas Tirith. Unfortunately, I will be in my last month of pregnancy when you marry, so I may end up giving birth in the City of Kings."

"Oh," Finduilas said, her curiosity peeking. "Will Father even allow you to travel all that way?"

"I have already spoken to him about it," Ivriniel replied. "He says as long as I travel by ship, I will be safe. I will have the midwives with me in case anything should happen along the journey." Ivriniel frowned. "It would be quite unfortunate if I were to go into labour onboard the ship."

Finduilas laughed. "It would be very uncomfortable, and you would most likely end up being physically sick from all the rocking."

Ivriniel shivered at the thought. Every morning she had been sick, having to stay in bed until midday. She hated it, feeling like she would do anything – even die – just for the horrible feeling to go away. "Let us not think about it," she finally said. "Who knows, you may end up with-child yourself next year."

Finduilas frowned in thought. "I hope so, and I anticipate it will end up being a boy. I have always wanted to be a mother of many, many children; but the thought of... consummating my marriage with Lord Denethor does not appeal to me at all. I could not do it... he will have to make every move, not I."

Ivriniel wrinkled her nose. "Come; let us not think about such thoughts. You still have six months yet."

"These past six months have gone so fast!" Finduilas exclaimed. "No doubt the six month to come will go just as swiftly." She groaned. "I am not ready to leave Dol Amroth. I can't bear the thought." She looked into Ivriniel's eyes, pleadingly. "How am I going to live in Minas Tirith?"

Ivriniel felt hopeless; there was nothing she could do or say that would make everything seem better. "I am sorry, Finduilas."

"You will come and visit me as often as you can," Finduilas assumed.

Ivriniel nodded. "Of course; Losdir and I will come to Minas Tirith often. Though, I do not know how often Losdir shall be able to visit; his duties now are keeping him very busy."

"But you will still come," Finduilas insisted. "I know Imrahil won't visit often, because he has to stay here and be reared into becoming the next Prince of Dol Amroth; Mother cannot travel in her state." She sighed heavily. "She will not even be able to attend the wedding."

Ivriniel held Finduilas' hand. "It grieves Mother that she cannot attend. I know she wants to more than anything, but her health is dwindling." Ivriniel hated discussing their mother's health. Part of Ivriniel pretended that nothing was wrong, and one day they will all wake up to the new morning and discover that their mother's dire health was nothing more than a bad memory.

"I hope Lord Denethor continues to write," Finduilas said, changing the topic. "I know I have no feelings towards him, but I do respect him. His office is a hard one, and one day he will be the Steward of Gondor. It must be hard for him." Finduilas frowned, looking out over the courtyard railing, watching the seagulls circle the harbour below. "He writes in his letters that I will be comfortable in Minas Tirith, and that he shall look after me as any good husband would do."

"I am sure he does not desire you to be uncomfortable," Ivriniel said. "This whole arrangement must be hard for him, too. Remember that he does not know you personally either. He is entering this marriage as blindly as you are."

"But he could put a stop to it," Finduilas said, leaning over the table. "He could tell his father that he does not wish to wed a woman he does not know."

"Does he write in his letters that he desires to marry you?" Ivriniel asked curiously.

Finduilas shrugged. "Those are not his exact words; instead he goes on about how he will make a good husband and that I will have everything in his power to give."

Ivriniel nodded. "Maybe he is just being modest. Besides, you are very beautiful, Sister. What man would not want to make you his wife?"

"I still should have worn a sack to your wedding," Finduilas said, folding her arms. "A sack as a dress would have turned him off of me, and Agoron would have laughed, I know he would have."

"I do not want to upset you, but once you become Lord Denethor's wife, you will have to stop thinking about Lord Agoron; you must never mention him again, or write to him. Lord Denethor would never approve."

"He does not even know of my... my past relations with Agoron." Finduilas' eyes widened. "Unless Father told Steward Ecthelion, and then he told Lord Denethor. Men gossip as much as women do."

Ivriniel laughed at her last remark. "True, indeed." Ivriniel stood up. "I must go; Losdir will be leaving soon for his monthly patrol along the coastline."

Finduilas nodded. "Send him my best wishes."

...

Ivriniel embraced Losdir tightly in the front courtyard. She was wrapped tightly in a fur cloak, shielding her from the harsh, winter breeze. "Come back soon," she said, her cheeks pink from the cold air.

Losdir brushed a few strands of hair out of her face and kissed her tenderly. "I will; I promise. But you must promise me to keep our child safe." He placed his hand on her lower abdomen. He kissed her once more. "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered in reply. Her body was chilled, but it was not only the weather causing her to shiver. Her body was causing a shiver to run up her back, causing herself to shake. She wrapped the cloak ever tightly and walked back into the warmth of the palace. Once inside, she felt her stomach twinge in a sharp pain. She winced, holding her belly. The pain passed as quickly as it came, but Ivriniel felt a wave of concern flow through her.

Little did Ivriniel know that the kiss her husband gave her, that touch on her stomach was the last contact she would ever receive from him. Eight days later, word reached the swan palace. It was terrible news. Angelimir was the first to receive it. In response to the message, he sunk down into his large chair and covered his face with his hands. How was he going to break it to her? He could not do it, he loved his granddaughter too much to see her grief-stricken. He needed to tell his son, tell Adrahil. He would know the best way to inform Ivriniel.

Adrahil walked slowly towards Ivriniel's apartments. His heart was heavy with sorrow. He did not want to be the bearer of bad news, but someone had to tell her. He could have sent Imrahil or Finduilas to inform her, but it would not have been fair on Ivriniel if everyone else knew what had happened before her. He arrived at her door and knocked, letting himself in. The antechamber was warm from the heat of the fireplace. Ivriniel was sitting by its side with Nan keeping her company. Both women were embroidering and speaking softly to another. Ivriniel looked up from her work and smiled, acknowledging her father.

"Ivriniel, I am afraid I have some bad news," Adrahil said, feeling quite anxious.

Ivriniel placed her embroidery aside and frowned. "What is it? Is Mother unwell again? Should I go and sit by her side?" Ivriniel stood up, ready to leave.

Adrahil placed both his hands in front of him to stop Ivriniel from leaving. "No; your mother is just fine."

Ivriniel placed her hands on her hips. "Then what is it?"

"There has been... an incident," Adrahil started, choosing his words carefully. "About three days ago, Captain Alagosson's camp was ambushed by a group of Corsairs that had landed along the coastline to raid and plunder."

Ivriniel frowned. "Is everyone all right? How is Losdir? Do you have news from him?"

Adrahil's heart ached; he truly did not enjoy this. "Captain Alagosson lost a third of his men; Losdir was shot by a distant arrow. He was struck in the chest." Adrahil looked at his daughter through eyes of remorse. "He did not suffer, Ivriniel. His death was instant."

Ivriniel stood there; she did not move. Dead? No, she thought. No, he could not be dead. It was impossible. They were going to build a house in the countryside and raise their children away from the city life. She opened her mouth to speak, but found no words. Nan had stood up and taken a place by her lady's side.

"Princess," Nan said softly, gently grabbing her arm.

"Dead," Ivriniel said, choking on her tears.

Adrahil walked over and embraced his daughter. "I am so sorry, Ivriniel."

Ivriniel burst into a fit of crying. She had her head resting on her father chest, clinging to his back. This could not be happening, she thought. He could not be dead. Impossible. Impossible. She let go of her father and fell to her knees. Adrahil bent down to support her. She was shaking her head, not believing what she had heard. "Tell me this is not true," she said, not to anyone in particular. "No, no, no."

"Shhh," Adrahil said, trying to be of some comfort. "Nan, fetch Finduilas and tell her of the news."

Nan curtsied quickly and left in a hurry. Ivriniel did not get up; she placed her hands on the floor, her shoulders shaking with grief. She felt her father holding her, but she did not register his presence. This was a dream, she thought. A very, very bad dream. She will wake up soon; she knew it. There was no way Losdir was dead. It could not be; he was supposed to live for her, for their unborn child.

Finduilas bustled into her sister's apartments and immediately knelt down beside her sister, embracing her for comfort. "Oh, Sister," she said, tears swelling in her own eyes. "Everything is going to be all right."

Ivriniel looked up into her sister's eyes. "H-h-how can y-you s-say that?" Fresh tears streamed down her face. "Th-there has t-to be a m-mistake."

Finduilas looked over at their father, a questioning look in her eyes. Adrahil solemnly shook his head. "My dear, there is no mistake," he said. "Sweetheart, I must go. I will fetch your mother to come here. Arrangement must now be made."

Finduilas held her sister tightly, placing her head on Ivriniel's shoulder. "Hush," she said soothingly. "Do not stress yourself; for the child's sake."

"M-y child has n-no father now," Ivriniel said, unable to stop herself from weeping.

Finduilas and Nan were able to move Ivriniel to the bedchamber, where – as Finduilas had done six months earlier – she laid down on the bed with her face in the pillow, weeping. Finduilas herself had tears falling down her cheeks. She had not wish any ill in her sister's marriage. She rubbed her sister's arm while Nan covered her mistress with a blanket. Their mother entered several minutes later and took a seat beside Finduilas. Neither women spoke a word; all they could do was be there for Ivriniel.

As dusk fell, Ivriniel finally sat up, wiping her eyes. She felt sick in the stomach, her appetite lost. She embraced her mother, feeling like a little girl once again, needing her mother's comfort, and calming words. But nothing could keep Ivriniel from thinking of how sudden his death had been. One minute they were happily married, saying goodbye to each other as he set out on a routine patrol; he did these patrols monthly. She cursed the Corsairs; she would never forgive them for what they stole from her. Losdir had been the love of her life; the bright light that always cheered her up. And now, he was gone. Never to see his child, never to see the country house they so longed to build.

She managed to slide off her bed and gloomily walk over to the table where some food was waiting for her. "You must eat for the sake of the child, Ivriniel," her mother said gently, but sternly.

Ivriniel picked up the fork and moved the food about the plate. "I am not hungry, Mother."

Lady Anneth poured some wine into her daughter's goblet. "Then at least drink; you cannot go around with an empty stomach."

Ivriniel wiped her eyes; she could no longer control her tears from spilling. "Why did this have to happen to me?" She placed a hand over her face in grief.

Finduilas – who was sitting next to her – bent over and gave Ivriniel a meaningful kiss on the cheek. After this tragic news, Finduilas had decided that she would no longer complain about her future marriage. It was not fair now on Ivriniel to hear it. She had other problems to focus on.

Ivriniel sat up straight, wiping her eyes and cheeks with a napkin. She attempted to sip her wine, but her stomach protested. "I am too ill to drink or eat." She sighed heavily. "Please, I just want to sleep; I just want to be alone." Alone. Ivriniel began weeping once more. She truly was alone now. No one to hold her in the nights, to go out riding with, to live a life of happiness. She was widow, and at the beginning of the next year, she would become a mother to a child who will never know who their father was.

Lady Anneth stood, gesturing for Finduilas to do the same. "I will have Nan stay in the antechamber in case you need anything." She walked over to her daughter's side and kissed her hair. "My poor girl. Remember, I love you and so does your father, grandfather and siblings; we all love you. And we will help you get through this."

Ivriniel hiccupped and nodded. She too, rose from her seat. Instead of leaving with her family, she got under the bed sheets, not caring to undress into a nightgown. She felt her energy leaving her, but her heart ached, longing to feel him – Losdir – by her side, holding her, and whispering that everything would be all right. She shut her eyes tightly, wishing that all of it were a dream, willing for everything to go back to normal once she opened her eyes. Alas! It did not happen. She was still alone in her bed; the sound of the fire crackling in the distance was the only noise she heard. She bit her bottom lip to refrain herself from screaming aloud in anguish. No, no, no.

"Please, come back," she whispered desperately. "Please, Please." She shut her eyes, not wanting to wake from the approaching sleep. If she could, she would follow Losdir to wherever he was now. If only she could.


	10. Dire Circumstances

Dol Amroth: August 2975

Winter

It was the day that all widows feared and hated. Ivriniel dressed solemnly for the funeral of her late husband. She wore a black gown with a silver circlet holding her black veil in place. Despite the week that had passed since Losdir's sudden death, Ivriniel still could not accept it. Her dreams at night were filled with images of Losdir walking into her chambers as if nothing had happened, as if he had never left on that patrol. Her family were thought to have the sight – why did nobody forebode this. It was not fair. It was not fair.

Finduilas stayed by her side through the whole funeral procession. Losdir was to be buried among the members of the princedom family. The procession was led through the streets of Dol Amroth; the people standing on the sideline, draped in black garments. Ivriniel could not bear to look at them. She could not look at anyone; she kept her eyes to the ground. They arrived outside of the city - a few hundred yards away - where the cemetery lay, facing westward. The whole area was surrounding by tall, green trees, protecting the tombs from the eyes of the enemy. It was so peaceful, being inside the cemetery, where a large statue of the first Prince of Dol Amroth stood in the centre, above his tomb.

Losdir was to be buried in the northern section of the cemetery, near the resting place of her late grandmother. Ivriniel wept as they lowered his body into the white tomb. She held her sister's hand, weeping silently. Her shoulders were shaking as Imrahil gently wrapped a comforting arm around her, kissing her hair. This is not what was supposed to happen, she kept telling herself. He was supposed to live; we were going to grow old together. Prayers were said in honour of the body, and items were placed next to Losdir into the tomb before it was sealed shut, never to open again. Ladies of the court threw flowers atop of it, and Angelimir stepped up and spoke of how Losdir had brought his beloved granddaughter many month of happiness. Ivriniel wept harder, not wanting to hear any of it. She just wanted to be left alone.

"He has left her a gift, a reminder of him," Angelimir continued. "A child unborn, residing within my granddaughter. May this child bring peace to her as its father had done."

The child. Ivriniel had almost forgotten she was with-child. Did she still want the child? She did not know. It would be a constant reminder of Losdir, and was that something she wanted?

After the funeral was over, a gathering of the court was held in the great hall. Ivriniel sat with her mother, not eating anything and refusing to drink. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and were heavy with tiredness. She felt like a wreck; there was no life force keeping her going. She wanted to leave the hall and return to her apartments where she would be left alone.

"Mother," she said quietly. "I have made a decision." Lady Anneth turned to her daughter, a questioning look strewn across her face. "As the Valar are my witness, I vow I will wear black for the rest of my life."

"Ivriniel," her mother said quickly, grabbing her hand, "renounce it."

Ivriniel frowned, shaking her head. "Never. I will never wear any other colour. I shall mourn for the rest of my life."

"No, my dear," Lady Anneth said hastily. "This phase shall pass; you will see. It hurts at first, to lose one you so dearly love. But the pain will pass."

Ivriniel shook her head again. "No, Mother. I will never recover; I know it."

"Nobody is asking you to remarry," her mother said, wishing that Ivriniel would soon be past her mourning stage. "And nobody is asking you to forget Losdir."

Ivriniel winced at the sound of his name. "Please, do not... I cannot bear to hear his name aloud."

In the days that were to follow, Ivriniel received many letters of condolences from other noble families. At first, she was touched by their sympathy and the time they consumed to write to her. But as the letters continued to come, she grew tired, no longer wanting their pity. She kept to her vow, and with Nan's reluctant assistance, Ivriniel threw all her colourful gowns into the fireplace. Some, she decided to spare and give to Finduilas, along with all her beautiful jewels. She decided to keep all of Losdir's belonging, keeping them safe in a large coffer in her wardrobe. She then sat in front of the fireplace watching her clothes in the fireplace darken, burning in the fiery red flames; the smoke became black and wavered beyond the fireplace, causing Ivriniel to cough. She stood up and walked over to the table. She opened a leather, blank book in front of her and started to write. She would write down all her memories of the wonderful marriage she had endured.

She sat there for several moments, wondering where she could begin. She dipped the quill into the ink.

I found love that was not meant to last in this bitter world of mortality; yet one that shall flourish everlastingly when we meet again over the horizon, where will shall live an endless life in peace.

An endless life in peace. How dearly she wanted it. Ivriniel wanted nothing more than peace and quiet, for the enemy to leave her homeland alone, to vanish into the dark abyss where they deserved to be. They took that love from her in the cruellest of manners. Her lower abdomen twitched in pain once more; she winced, clutching her stomach. She laid her head on the table beside her journal, weeping once more. It hurt everywhere - her heart, her head, her stomach, and her back. Her entire body ached, longing to feel Losdir again, yet heartbroken knowing that his touch was never to be felt.

Later that evening she slept, but the pain she began to experience in her stomach was incorporated in her dream. She dreamt that the enemy had shot her instead, piercing her stomach; she fell to the ground, clutching her body to try to stop the bleeding. But it would not be. Her life was slipping away; everything was becoming hazy. Losdir was there, touching her face, his eyes filled with concern. He was speaking, but she could not catch his words. The pain was so great; she let out a cry, her head throbbing.

She sat up in her bed; her entire body was sweating, her clothes sticking to her as if wanting to be saved from drowning. She was panting, her heart thumping so loudly; it was all she could hear. She wiped the sweat from her face, feeling her cheeks burning. She wondered if she had a fever; her whole body was wet from her sweats; she shifted her legs apart and felt more wetness between them. She grimaced, wishing the window to be open to let in the cool breeze. As she pushed the blankets away from her body, she gasped, screaming in fright. There was blood on the sheets, a lot of blood. Her chemise waist down was covered in it, and now being soaked into the linen on the mattress.

Nan hurried into the room. "What is it, my lady?"

Ivriniel could not speak, she whimpered, fearing the worst. Nan walked over to the bed's side and saw the blood. She gasped in horror. "The baby," she whispered, covering her mouth. "I will fetch the physician."

"No, no, no!" Ivriniel shouted, not wanting to believe it was true. Not the baby, not the last gift she had received from Losdir. She grabbed a handful of the sheets and placed them between her legs, thinking foolishly that it would stop the bleeding, thus saving the child's life. Her stomach went into a fit of cramps, making her huff and puff, her eyes shut tightly from the pain.

The physician entered a while later, carrying his bag of utensils. Ivriniel looked up at him in horror. "It's gone, isn't?"

He hesitated, looking at Nan for some sort of support. "Perhaps your chambermaid should draw you a bath. The hot water will soothe the cramping."

After Ivriniel nodded, Nan left for the washroom. Ivriniel shut her eyes again, letting tears fall down her cheeks. "It's over. It's gone." The physician – Ioristion – placed his bag on the end of the bed; he opened it, taking out a small vassal containing a liquid.

He handed it to her. "Please, you must drink this. It will rehydrate your body as you have lost a lot of fluids."

Ivriniel glared at the vassal of liquid before grabbing it, tossing it onto the pillow next to her. "I will drink it later."

"But, my lady..."

"I don't want to hear it!" she shouted, choking on her own voice. "Is it gone? Tell me!"

Ioristion frowned, concerned for the princess's physical and mental wellbeing. "Let me see." He gestured towards where the crumpled sheets were stuffed between her legs. She pulled the sheets away from her legs, revealing clotted blood. She winced at the sight, feeling nauseous. Ioristion sat on the edge of the bed, observing the mess before him, a frown on his face. "Are you in any pain?"

Ivriniel nodded. "My stomach continues to cramp in the most vial way; it makes my head feel dizzy."

He nodded. "Do you feel any need to push it out?"

She shook her head. "No; should I?" Hope rekindled in her eyes.

Ioristion sighed. "Just as I had thought; you are too early in the stages of pregnancy. From all the stress, anxiety, and physical strain you have put yourself in, I am not surprised."

Ivriniel glared at him. "Are you saying this is my fault? How dare you! Get out! Get out!" she screamed, pointing at the door. "Leave!"

Ioristion jumped at her harsh words; he nodded, stood up, bowed, and left with his bag. Nan hurried back into the bedchamber after hearing the commotion. "My lady, what happened?"

"I've lost the baby," she said, breathing heavily. Coming to her senses for a short moment, she asked, "Is the bath ready?"

"Almost," Nan replied. "Do you need me to do anything in the mean time?"

"Would you fetch my brother and sister for me?" she asked, feeling her anger wither away.

As Nan left, Ivriniel picked up the vassal of liquid. She eyed it, feeling rebellious. She did not want to consume it. She got out of bed and walked over to the window; she tossed it out, watching it fall to the stone pavement below, heaving its distant smash. She slammed the shutters shut. Blood was still trickling down her legs and the cramping began once more. She moaned, clutching her stomach; she toppled over, grasping to the bedpost for support. She eyed her bed warily, not wanting to get back in. Blood and clots lay there of what had remained of her pregnancy. She pulled the sheets up and then ran to the basin, becoming sick from the sight.

Not long after, Finduilas and Imrahil entered her bedchamber to find their older sister leaning over the basin. They rushed to her side. "Nan told us," Finduilas said, rubbing her sister's back. "Everything is going to be okay."

Ivriniel straightened her body, her face wet with tears. "I lost the baby." Imrahil walked over to the bed and pulled the sheets away.

"When did this happen?" he asked, not flinching from the sight of blood.

"Just now," Ivriniel replied, clutching her sister for support. "It's gone, never to return."

Nan reappeared, carrying a bucket of seaming water. "Not long now before your bath is ready, my lady."

"We must clean you up," Imrahil said, pulling the sheets off her bed. "You should not have to put up with this sight. Where is Nan? After she has finished drawing you a bath, get her in here and dispose of this!" He gathered the sheets up into a bundle in the middle of the bed, before making his way over to Ivriniel.

"I am so sorry, Ivriniel," he said. He wrapped one arm around Ivriniel and another around Finduilas holding his sisters in a three-way embrace. Finduilas was crying, holding onto a shaking Ivriniel, who ended up crouching in immense pain.

"I cannot bear this anymore!" she cried, clutching her stomach. Blood trickled on the stone floor where she was crouched. "Make it stop, make it stop!"

Imrahil pulled her up, holding her. "Shhh," he said, trying to be of some comfort. "It will all be over soon."

Finduilas wiped her face, and then walked over to the washroom the fetch some linen to clean up the blood.

"I lost the baby," Ivriniel said again. "Losdir will be so disappointed."

Imrahil held her closer, resting his chin on top of her head. "Do not say that. None of this was your fault. It was an act of nature, Ivriniel. Some things are just not meant to be."

"I am not meant to be happy," she said, hiccupping. "I am not meant to have a child or a husband." At the thought of her loss once more, she let out a wail of grief.

Nan and Finduilas returned. "Your bath is ready, my lady," Nan said, gently hooking her arms into Ivriniel's. "Come, I will help you undress."

Finduilas knelt down and mopped up the blood, her shoulders shaking. Imrahil knelt beside her, holding her for comfort. "I must go and wake Father." Finduilas nodded. "I will return shortly. Make sure Nan cleans up the sheets."

Ivriniel slipped into the bath, holding her legs up to her chest. Nan poured warm water through her mistress's hair and began gently combing out the knots; Ivriniel loved having her hair brushed; it brought some comfort. She closed her eyes, enduring the sudden cramping that would come and go. It was horrible, disgusting, vial. It was all she could think.

Finduilas entered the washroom. "I will comb my sister's hair. Nan, please go and clean up the bloodstained sheets."

Finduilas took the comb and sat down on the stool. She kissed Ivriniel's hair. "How are you feeling now? Is the pain going away?"

Ivriniel shook her head. "It comes and goes." She let a few tears spill. "Why am I so cursed?"

"You are not cursed," Finduilas answered sternly. "Lately you have been... misfortunate. Everyone has a time in their life when nothing goes right; it all ends up horrible."

"I cannot stop weeping," she said, sniffing. "I feel... I feel so empty now. I have no purpose. My child is gone; my husband perished doing what he loved. I have no prospects left."

Finduilas closed her eyes, wondering why the Valar had been so careless towards her sister. "Ivriniel, I want to help you; more than anything. But I do not know how."

"Nobody can help me," Ivriniel replied, resting her chin on her knee. "I am a lost cause."

Finduilas frowned, concerned. "No you are not." She placed the comb aside. "You need to get out of here; out of Dol Amroth. You need a fresh start. Nobody is in need of one like you. Come with me to Minas Tirith and stay by my side. We can look after each other."

Ivriniel shook her head. "I could not. I will not. Minas Tirith is a cold place. It no longer shines as it once did. I could not bear living within its walls."

Finduilas' heart clenched. "Now you know how I feel. I wish I could stay with you, here."

Ivriniel sniffed. "Our lives are in shatters."

After an hour of soaking in the tub, Ivriniel emerged feeling no better. Though, her nausea had ceased, which was something, she guessed. When she entered her bedchamber, Imrahil was sitting by the fire with their father. At the sight of him, Ivriniel broke down into tears, not caring if she woke the entire palace. Adrahil strode quickly to his daughter, holding her tightly.

"My dearest," he said, clutching her head to his chest. "My darling. My poor child." Ivriniel wept harder. He slowly moved her over to the bed, gently lying her down on fresh linen. He kissed her brow, caressing her cheek. "Allow your body to relieve itself from all these emotions. It is natural to weep." He wiped away the tears on her cheeks. "Grieve as long as you need. Your family is here by your side; we will look after you."

Ivriniel choked on her tears. "I do not want to be a burden."

"You are not a burden, and you never will be," he replied. "Now hush, get some rest before morning arrives. I will have Nan stay with you in case anything should happen."

Ivriniel nodded. Her father handed her a glass. "Drink this; it will help you sleep."

Instead of throwing it out of the window, she accepted it. She wanted to sleep; sleep for an eternity. But she knew that sooner or later she would awake, remembering all the past events that had just occurred. There was no escaping what had happened - nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. She had no choice but to face it all, and that was something she did not have the willpower to do.


	11. What Shall Come to Pass

Dol Amroth: January 2976

Winter

Five months - five long, painful months had passed since Ivriniel had lost her unborn child. The first four of those months, Ivriniel had mourned deeply for both of her losses - with Finduilas at her side - on a daily basis. But now, her tears had dried up. She had not moved on - she never would. But the heavy ride of emotions had passed, and the shock of miscarrying her child had buried itself deep within her. Slowly, she began to realise that she had not lost everything she had loved; her family was still at her side, and so was the sea.

The sea. Ivriniel sat on the shores, raking her fingers through the sand. In front of her, a small crab skittered away towards a shell for safety. A seagull chirped from the sky above, swooping over the shoreline, searching for food. The waves crashed against the rocks of the cliff, causing roaring sounds at the impact. The Earth was alive with its nature, beauty, and its way of life. But Ivriniel did not see its beauty, nor did the sun's rays from above warm her skin. It was an everlasting bitter coldness for her - a life of heartache, a wildness of loss.

The noon bell rung in the distance; Ivriniel stood up and started making her way back into the city, back to the palace. Today was Imrahil's twenty-first birthday – his coming-of-age ceremony. It also meant he was to be knighted under the laws of Gondor. Ivriniel was truly happy for her brother moving up in the world. She was also happy for her parents; she knew today was extra special. Their only son and her father's heir had made it to manhood fully healthy. Relief is what they all felt.

Ivriniel changed her overcoat into something more elegant for her brother's knighting ceremony. The whole court and anyone else able to fit into the great hall came to witness the knighting of their future leader. Ivriniel stood next to Finduilas on the dais. Their grandfather sat on his throne with his clerk holding a cushion with a chain of knighthood resting on it. Ivriniel could see the pride in her grandfather's and parents' eyes as Imrahil was brought before the court.

The herald escorting Imrahil bowed before Angelimir and spoke, "My Lord Prince Angelimir, now before you comes Imrahil, son of Adrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth, who bears the arms of the Princedom House of Dol Amroth."

Imrahil stepped before the dais and knelt, his head bowed. "I, Prince Imrahil, swear fealty and my service to Gondor and my home fiefdom, Belfalas; to always be a true and justly knight of your service, reverent, and courageous. I swear to be obedient to my liege-lord, let it be in battle, abroad, or in the comfort of my own home."

Angelimir rose from his throne and stepped to the edge of the dais, looking down at his grandson. "You have been right mindful of your skills and abilities in the field; you have proven yourself worthy of the title Swan Knight. Know that by wearing the chain of knighthood in this fiefdom holds a sacred responsibility. The obligations of knighthood will demand you to keep your honour, and show respect to those above and equal to you every moment of your life. Do you swear never be disrespectable to the beliefs of others; you are to protect those who are weak or cannot defend themselves, whether because of age, poverty, or skill; be steadfast in defending them. A knight of this fiefdom must love and honour not only the fiefdom he is appointed to, but also the kingdom he was born in to. Fulfil all your duties faithfully; your word to be trustworthy beyond doubt and question. Never flee from foe and be generous to all. All Swan Knights are to be courteous in the company of others. Above all, be loyal to your country."

"I do so swear," Imrahil answered, keeping his head lowered.

The clerk walked over to his liege and Angelimir picked up the chain of knighthood, placing it over Imrahil's shoulders. "Bear your sword with strength and superiority; only use it to defend justly with the right."

Adrahil walked over to his father and kneeled, offering the Swan Sword of Dol Amroth: a sword that had been passed down through many generations on princes. Angelimir accepted the sword and placed the sword flatly on both of Imrahil's shoulders. "Pray to the Valar that you bear these blows and that they are the last you ever receive."

Imrahil stood proudly before his family and turned to face the crowd before him.

To all gentlemen and ladies who bear witness on this day. Prince Imrahil, son of Prince Adrahil, heir to the Princedom of Dol Amroth, be knighted this day, entering the service of his rightful Lord and Kin, Prince Angelimir," the herald spoke aloud.

The crowd cheered, clapping; approving. Ivriniel joined in on the applause, feeling a tinge of happiness flow through her. Her little baby brother was a man today. He was a knight of the realm, ready to serve their grandfather in the field. But thinking of fighting made Ivriniel's stomach swirl in disfavour. Losdir had served as a knight in the field for her grandfather, and had perished. She could not lose Imrahil to that same fate. She bit her bottom lip, closing her eyes to refrain her fear from being exposed to the public eye.

That evening, Imrahil's birthday celebrations erupted in the great hall. Music, dancing, barrels of ale and wine were brought in with dozens of platters of freshly cooked food. The musicians played lively music from the gallery overlooking the hall, while people danced merrily with their partners. Ivriniel watched Finduilas dance with their brother. Both her siblings were filled to the brim with happiness. Part of Ivriniel envied their ability to become so happy. She wanted to join in with their celebrations, but guilt overcame her. She had vowed to be forever in mourning. She was wearing her best gown of black velvet. It had silver laces that sparkled in the light, but she wore no jewellery. She would not dazzle the eye, fearing to attract unwanted male attention. Her father had informed her that her months of official mourning were now over, and men were permitted to approach her, possibly in an attempt to court her. The thought sickened her.

She pushed her food around the plate with her fork. She barely had an appetite these days; her body looking thinner than it had ever been before. She found the courage to eat a few sliced meats with steamed vegetables, but the fruity smell of wine made her feel dizzy. Instead, she drank water, not wanting the affects of wine or ale to cause her to do something imprudent on her brother's birthday. The last time she drank wine, its affect made her break down into a fit of sobs. She would not weep this night. For Imrahil's sake.

Finduilas eventually joined her, her face flustered from all the dancing she had been doing. "Come and dance, Ivriniel. It will do you good."

She shook her head. "I cannot. I do not have the willpower."

Finduilas slumped back in her chair. "You never have the willpower to do anything these days. You have turned into this... this unvarying princess since your husband's death. You are very consistent with your duties to mourn him."

"I have every reason to," Ivriniel snapped. She lowered her voice. "Would you do the same as I if Lord Agoron died?"

Finduilas' cheeks reddened at the sound of his name. "I never see him anymore. Father has forbidden it. He does not want any scandal attached to my name since I am to marry Lord Denethor."

Ivriniel sighed. "You will be married soon; you will be leaving me forever."

Finduilas held her sister's hand. "My offer for you to come and live with me is still on the table."

She shook her head. "I cannot leave here. Home is the last memory of what I love. I cannot follow you."

Finduilas closed her eyes and nodded. "I understand. And believe me when I say that I do not want to leave home either. But I have no choice. I have accepted Father's decision to marry me off to some distant Lord in a cold city. I may never love Lord Denethor, but I will do my duty as his obedient wife."

"Did you come to this conclusion on your own?" Ivriniel asked curiously.

Finduilas laughed and shook her head. "Definitely not. You know that my stubbornness gets the better of me. Mother talked to me on the matter and managed to sway my mind. Lord Denethor should thank her for that."

Ivriniel smiled softly. She turned to look at their mother; she was sitting with their father, enjoying the celebrations. But her face was deathly pale. "Is Mother all right?" Ivriniel asked her sister.

Finduilas took a glimpse of their mother and frowned concerned. "She is getting no better. I fear for her."

Ivriniel gripped her cup tightly, not wanting to think of losing her mother. There had been enough deaths already for her. Not her mother. Not now.

"Look at him," Finduilas said, pointing at Imrahil. "He is definitely a man now."

Their beloved brother was dancing with a pretty young woman. "Is he interested in her?" Ivriniel asked, watching her brother place his hand on the woman's waist.

"I do not believe he has a love interest in her. Something less," Finduilas replied. "You know."

Ivriniel frowned. "He is not going to... take her honour?"

Finduilas laughed. "I am sure her honour is the last thing on her mind right now. She seems besotted with him."

"Our brother is a handsome man," Ivriniel remarked. "And he has the pick of any woman he likes."

Finduilas nodded. "He will marry someday. But not yet, I deem. He will want some... what do the men call it? Freedom?"

"Being married does not take away your freedom," Ivriniel said crossly.

"I was only jesting, Sister," Finduilas replied. "Do you not like jesting now either?"

Ivriniel scowled.

That night, Ivriniel slipped into her bed, falling asleep almost in an instant. But her dreams were not pleasant. She saw a room; a large, white room with a big bed. A woman was resting in it, her eyes closed, her face pale. It was she; it was Finduilas.

Ivriniel woke with a start. What had she seen? It felt so... so real, so life-like. She had felt the coldness in the room, the soft twittering of the birds from outside. And her sister, she had appeared much older... yet her beauty had not diminished. She had seemed so peaceful, yet on the brink of death. Had it been a vision? Was what she saw going to happen?

Ivriniel sprang out of bed and placed her slippers and robe on. Nan was sleeping peacefully in the antechamber and did not stir as Ivriniel fled from the room. The corridor was bitterly cold in the dead of night. She stopped at a window and looked out at the sea; it glimmered like a pearl from the full moon hovering above. She continued walking, making her way down another corridor to her brother's chamber. She hoped he would be there and not out at a tavern or some other place outside the palace.

She knocked on the door to his apartments. There was no answer. Ivriniel frowned. Imrahil's usher was always there to answer the door, even if Imrahil was not present. She opened the door and stepped into the antechamber. The fire was burning low in the pit, giving the room a deep, red glow. She walked swiftly over to the bedchamber door and stopped abruptly before she knocked. She placed her ear to the door and heard giggling... a woman giggling. Ivriniel frowned, hoping her brother was not doing what she thought he was doing. Even if it were his birthday, she would not have it.

She knocked loudly. "Imrahil, I need to speak to you." She had spoken quite loudly and heard muffled voices.

Imrahil opened the door a small way, glaring. "Ivriniel, this better be important."

"Is dallying with a... a whore more important than speaking to your sister?" she asked conceitedly.

Imrahil sighed. "She is no whore." He slipped out of his bedchamber, closing the door quickly.

"I believe I had a vision."

Imrahil folded his arms. "Whatever are you talking about?"

"I had a dream... a vision," Ivriniel replied. "It was of Finduilas."

"I thought you did not believe in our family being able to see what is to come," Imrahil said.

"Well, it takes seeing a vision to convert one's thoughts," she replied. "It felt so real, so... so genuine. I felt the air moving, the sounds... the smell. It was eerie."

"What was Finduilas doing?" he asked.

"Sleeping in a bed in a cold room," Ivriniel answered. "I think it was a time when she will be married to Lord Denethor." Ivriniel placed a hand on her forehead. "I think I just saw her death. She was so pale and lifeless. The atmosphere was so very cold and dead."

Imrahil grabbed her hand. "Sister, listen to me. It was only a dream, nothing more."

Ivriniel released her hand from his clutch. "How do you know that?"

"You have been through a very hard and exhausting time these past several months. It is understandable for you to... dream or think of losing others close to you."

"I did not will this dream."

"I know, I know," he said. "But we also cannot choose what we dream."

Ivriniel sighed, defeated. "I do not want her to marry him."

"Neither do I," Imrahil agreed. "But we have no say in the matter. What is done is done. All we can do is support her and be there for her when she needs us."

Ivriniel nodded. "Well then, you can go back to whoever you have in your bed."

Imrahil grinned. "I was getting tired anyway."

Ivriniel scrunched her nose. "I do not want to hear any details of your love affairs."

Imrahil kissed her on the cheek. "Go back to bed and pray that you have a pleasant dream, Sister."

Ivriniel left her brother's apartments, but instead of going back to her own chambers, she walked out into an alcove and leaned on the railing. She allowed the cold night air to make her body go numb, for she did not want to feel anything. Despite what Imrahil had said Ivriniel believed to the bottom of her heart that Finduilas was going to meet her untimely end in Minas Tirith. But what would the reason be? Ivriniel could not comprehend that. Perhaps Lord Denethor will treat her unkindly or she will end up unhappy, perhaps becoming sick. But why should she tarry on such thoughts? Telling her parents about her dream would not sway their minds to keep Finduilas at home. Nothing will change their minds on this advantageous marriage, and because of that, Ivriniel was scared for her little sister.


	12. Was It All Worth It?

Minas Tirith: February 2976

Winter

It was late in the month when Ivriniel and her family arrived in the City of Kings for the wedding of Finduilas and Lord Denethor. The journey had been painstakingly slow. The tide proved to be unreliable for three days, and then a change of wind caused the current to shift their ship off course. When they finally reached the mouths of the Anduin River, they were forced to stay in the port of Pelargir for five days due to a severe thunderstorm followed by days of a nonstop heavy downpour of rain. The delays came to Ivriniel as a sign from the Valar. She believed they were sending them a message that the wedding should not go ahead.

"This wedding should not ensue," Ivriniel whispered to Imrahil as she sat in the carriage that was being pulled towards Minas Tirith; Imrahil rode beside it.

"I think it is a little too late for protests now, Sister," Imrahil replied. "The wedding is set for the sixteenth of March; next month."

"It is not right," she persisted. "Finduilas is not the right woman for Lord Denethor."

"How do you know that?" Imrahil asked warily. "You have hardly spoken to him."

"That is exactly my point. Finduilas is a family woman; she holds all of us close to her heart. Has Lord Denethor tried making conversation to any of us? Even though it is not necessary, the gesture would have been nice."

Imrahil chuckled. "Lord Denethor is a man of very few words. I am sure he found it difficult enough writing to Finduilas, a woman he hardly knows."

"I cannot imagine what is going through her mind right now," Ivriniel murmured. "I would hate to be in her position."

"As would I," Imrahil replied quietly. "But there is little we can do now. We have argued, conspired, and pleaded; we lost our cause of fight and now we must watch and endure our sister's wedding."

Ivriniel sighed heavily and slumped back in her chair. She picked up her journal that was resting next to her. Lately, she had been writing down her dreams as records. She never wanted to forget a single one in case any would come to pass. She kissed the cover of the journal, hoping that all her fretting was over nothing. It was all she seemed to do on a daily basis nowadays. During her short pregnancy, her mind started preparing itself for the skills of raising a child. And one of those skills was fretting over the child's wellbeing. Perhaps those skills had not yet left her, she thought hazily, staring out the carriage window. Losing a husband and a child had damaged her beyond repair, and now after dreaming of her sister's death it rattled her. What if she sees the chamber she saw in her dream when she arrives in the citadel; what would she do?

The carriage came to a halt and a trumpet was blown from the wall above. She peered up and saw the first circle wall of Minas Tirith. It was so high, made of black stone. She heard a man shout for a password, which was required at every gate in Minas Tirith. Such precaution, Ivriniel thought, rather worried. They never used passwords at the gates in Dol Amroth. Were her people too carefree? Were the lands far more dangerous than she was led to believe? This small act of security made Ivriniel despise her sister's marriage all the more. She knew her sister very well, and Finduilas would tire of saying passwords rather quickly.

The carriage rolled forward through the Great Gates of Minas Tirith. Soldiers standing in salute passed by, and then the scenery showed a large courtyard with many people bustling about to get a good view of the visitors. They were not to travel to the citadel straight away. Apparently, – according to her father – Steward Ecthelion had arranged for the people to show their welcome and praise to the bride of the future Steward of Gondor. The carriage door swung open and the steps were lowered. Ivriniel was helped down by her brother, and still holding his hand, they made their way over to where Finduilas was standing with their father. Their mother was not able to make the journey, being too ill to travel.

The courtyard pavement had flower petals strewn all over, with an odd leaf every now and then. A small group of children approached them, the tallest – a girl - leading the way. The children bowed and the tall girl offered Finduilas a wreath of flowers.

"We welcome you to our city, Princess Finduilas of Dol Amroth," the girl said, curtsying. "We hope you will find your life among us rewarding and prosperous."

A boy with ginger hair stepped up and bowed. "We pray that you bring good fortune from the sea."

Two little girls - who seemed barely able to walk - came into view holding a basket each. They threw petals at Finduilas' feet and were helped back into line by their fellow companions.

Adrahil started clapping, approval spread across his face. Finduilas grinned and placed the wreath atop her head. The crowd of people around them applauded and cheered. The children began singing about the sea, their little hands clasped behind their backs. Ivriniel suspected someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to arrange these children to behave so well. More cheering followed after the song concluded. Lastly, the tallest girl stepped forward again.

"We also pray for you, our Princess of Gondor, to bear an heir to the Steward's Line."

Ivriniel glanced over at Finduilas, who seemed rather nervous now. She knew her sister had begun to worry about having children to Lord Denethor, mainly because she was frightened of the act of conceiving them with him.

The children walked away and were replaced by a smaller group of elderly people. A herald of the city came forward and bowed. "These poor peasants come, desiring a blessing from the princess who has travelled from the sea."

Ivriniel had been expecting this part. For some odd reason – perhaps there was a good reason, she did not exactly know – the people of Minas Tirith found the princedom family of Dol Amroth lucky. This is why they wanted Finduilas' blessing.

"Why are we so lucky?" Ivriniel whispered to Imrahil.

"It is because our line has survived since the days of kings," he replied softly. "Our line has never been broken, unlike the Line of Kings."

"Do they ask for the steward's blessing?"

Imrahil shook his head. "What would be the sense in that? Their line is not as ancient as ours."

Ivriniel watched as Finduilas placed her hand on each of the elderly foreheads. She was speaking softly that Ivriniel could not comprehend it, but she assumed it was some sort of blessing in Sindarin.

They started their progress up the levels of the city. Through each level, people lined the streets, throwing flowers along the stone road, shouting, and trying to get a glimpse of Finduilas. Ivriniel wanted to have her shutter closed to avoid curious eyes and hearing all the celebration. But her father insisted on her making a public appearance. What good would it be for the people to believe Finduilas' sister was inconsiderate or not appreciative for all their efforts to welcome us, her father had told her. She could not feign mourning, for news of her husband's death was not widely known in Minas Tirith; even her marriage was not common knowledge.

They reached the sixth level that housed the stables. Ivriniel hopped out of her carriage and stretched. She was exhausted from all the travelling, but of course, rest was not yet available to her. First she and her family had to meet the steward and his son.

Ivriniel walked beside Finduilas as they made their way up the causeway into the seventh level. Despite Ivriniel's sorrow ways, she could not help notice the breathtaking image of the citadel courtyard, cleanly kept with emerald green grass, knights in polished armour, and the ancient tree of kings in the centre. Before her, the Tower of Ecthelion raised high into the sky. Ivriniel felt dizzy watching its point; it appeared to sway as the clouds passed by.

"How were our ancestors able to build such a wonder," Ivriniel remarked to Finduilas

Her sister – also viewing the Tower – shrugged her shoulders. "It is a mystery to us all. Perhaps the steward will have your answer."

"Actually, I would count on Lord Denethor knowing," Imrahil said, walking over to them. "He is a man of lore."

Ivriniel smirked. Her brother had said it in a disapproving way. "Why do you demean his abilities?"

"I would not do such a thing if he would raise a sword in our kingdom's defence," Imrahil replied. "You know I have an interest in politics; it may not be my strongest point yet. But at least I am an able warrior."

"Not every man is the same," Finduilas said, fidgeting her hands.

Ivriniel leant close to Finduilas, whispering into her ear. "He will be nothing like Lord Agoron."

Finduilas sighed heavily. "You are not helping, Sister. Please, do not mention his name again."

The main doors to the throne room opened, revealing a long hall with two thrones at the very end. Steward Ecthelion sat on the smallest throne, made of black marble stationed on a small dais. The biggest throne tarried to the steward's left. It was raised high, accessed by a narrow staircase. The throne was made out of white marble and had a large, golden crown hanging from the ceiling above it. It was the throne of the kings of Gondor, and had not been used in over a thousand years. Ivriniel wondered what it felt like to be the steward, sitting in the shadow of such a wondrous chair.

Greetings were exchanged, and Finduilas was formally introduced to Lord Denethor. Ivriniel saw how hard Finduilas tried to hide her nervousness. She was doing a good job of it, but as her sister, Ivriniel could still see it. Lord Denethor presented himself as polite and kind towards Finduilas. He held her hand briefly, but did not kiss it. Ivriniel found this odd and shared a look with Imrahil.

"My lady," Lord Ecthelion said, approaching Ivriniel, "may I offer you my condolences."

Ivriniel curtsied deeply, her head bowed. "I thank you for your thoughtfulness, my lord."

Lord Ecthelion kissed her hand, giving her a warm smile. "You appear to be in superb health, my lady."

"I am well as can be, my lord," she replied.

Lord Ecthelion released her hand and exchanged gracious words with Imrahil for a few moments before making his way back to his throne. "You have embarked on a long and tiresome journey. Prince Adrahil, I must have words with you with my council on the wedding preparations. Perhaps your children should retire to your townhouse."

Adrahil nodded at his children to depart. All three of them respectfully exited the hall. Outside, Finduilas lent on Ivriniel. "That was horrible."

Ivriniel held her hand. "It is over now."

"No," Finduilas said as they walked towards the causeway. "I must marry Lord Denethor next month."

"Do not fret, Sister," Ivriniel replied. "Come, the steward was good to let us retire. You seem exhausted."

Their townhouse was located on the sixth level, not far from the gate leading down to the fifth level. It had been well kept in their long absence; the grass and gardens were well tamed, and the small birdbath was full of fresh water that sparkled in the sunlight. The housekeeper – an elderly woman – admitted them into the house, having lit all the fires. Ivriniel removed her riding cloak and gloves after feeling the warmth from stepping inside. The foyer had their luggage stored to one corner; Ivriniel had her's carried to her chamber as she followed. She was given a room in the back of the house with a window facing west towards the sea. She unlaced the curtains and drew them apart, airing out the room. Below, she saw the back courtyard of the house. A small child was hanging onto his mother's skirt while she hung linen out to dry, and a cat was sunbaking on the outer wall, while bees buzzed around the flowers. She smelled food being cooked from the kitchen below made her stomach growled with hunger. Fortunately, the noonday bell rang and a tray of cooked food was brought into her room.

She sat down at the table and ate eagerly for the first time in months. It tasted so good; warm bread with melted butter, with cooked meats on the side with sliced tomato. Nan entered with a jug of chilled water and poured her mistress a glass full before beginning to unpack Ivriniel's belongings.

"Could you hang up the gown I shall wear to Finduilas' wedding. I want all the creases taken out of it," she said, observing Nan work.

Nan picked up the velvet black gown her mistress had worn to Imrahil's birthday celebrations. Nan frowned. "You could easily have had a new gown made."

Ivriniel shrugged. "I see no need to. I have no reason to have many gowns. I am content with what I have."

"I am sure Lord Losdir would not have wanted you to wallow in your sorrows."

Ivriniel stopped eating and placed her fork down. "I gave you no permission to speak his name, nor about him."

Nan curtsied. "I am sorry, my lady."

Ivriniel did not reply. Nan may have had a point, but she did not care. This is how Ivriniel wanted to live; it was how she wanted to present herself. She did not want the public eye to think she had forgotten about her husband, nor the love they had shared. Besides, heaps of people wore black and silver in Gondor, so why could she not? She would end up being forever unchanging in the matter.

...

Days turned into weeks and the day of Finduilas' wedding approached. Her sister had been moved into the palace to make ready, and Ivriniel was not permitted to accompany her. This angered her. How dare the steward and his lore-loving son separate two close sisters before one of them was about to be married? It was not fair!

Ivriniel sat still in the chamber as Nan neatly plaited her hair up, not a strand out of place. Her gown was laced tightly and she placed a silver-knotted belt around her waist that matched the circlet in her hair. After lacing up her shoes, Ivriniel was ready. She was to be escorted up to the citadel by her brother; their father was already up their speaking with the steward and Lord Denethor.

"Are you ready?" Imrahil asked, softly knocking on the door.

"I am," Ivriniel answered, stepping out of her room. "This is still a mistake."

"Are you going to continue making that statement forever?" Imrahil asked teasingly.

Ivriniel shrugged. "Most definitely."

Imrahil nodded and offered his arm to her. "I am going to see Finduilas before she must leave for the Hall of Feasts; do you want to join me?"

She shook her head. "No, I could not bear it."

"I thought you wanted to be by her side beforehand?" he asked curiously.

"If I was with her from the start, I would have been able to cope." She sighed heavily. "But now, I think its best that I stay with Father until the ceremony is over."

"Very well."

Imrahil escorted her to their father who was waiting in the throne room. She stood uneasily by his side as he talked to Ecthelion and Denethor on political matters. Most, she understood. But the military structure of her realm seemed to have eluded her. Instead of listening fully, she paid most of her attention on her sister's to-be-husband. Lord Denethor stood with a proud stance, dressed in a deep blue tunic, silver trimmed. It was a rather nice outfit, but then again it was to be expected for such high nobility to dress elegantly. There was no point on judging the steward's heir on the clothes he wore. She noticed he never, not once, looked in her direction; not even a flicker of the eye. She felt a wave of determination to attract his attention, but then again, if he gave it to her, what would she do with it? Tell him how much he did not deserve her sister; the fact that Finduilas was still in love with another man of lower birth. Ivriniel chuckled from within – Lord Denethor would not have appreciated hearing that. Ivriniel knew Finduilas had grown accustomed to the betrothal, so she believed it would do her no good to say something by 'accident' to cancel the wedding. Imrahil was right – what is done is done.

Finduilas looked beautiful as Imrahil led her up the long aisle in the Hall of Feasts. Ivriniel stood behind their father, not wanting to grab any attention away from Finduilas' beautiful being. The wedding dress, the decorations, the music, and all the people made Ivriniel remember her own wedding; how happy she had been. Finduilas did not look sad, but not happy either. Her face was unreadable, and that was probably for the best. The last thing Finduilas needed to do at that moment was give off the wrong impression.

Steward Ecthelion led the ceremony, blessing the rings, hearing the vows. Finduilas' voice was so soft Ivriniel could scarcely hear her. Imrahil had his hand tightly gripped on the hilt of his sword, seemingly ready to use it. Ivriniel presumed that the thought of Finduilas sharing a bed with a man he did not appreciate did not appeal to him one bit. Even though he was the youngest of the three, he still was protective of his sisters.

So there it happened, it the Great Hall of Feasts. Ivriniel's beautiful young sister had been bonded by the law into a loveless marriage. It was over, the papers signed, the rings blessed. A celebration would follow, but Ivriniel would not smile, she would not dance, and she would not socialise. This was not a day of celebration for neither her nor Imrahil. And Ivriniel was positively sure that Finduilas did not feel up to celebrating herself. Still, she would have to sit beside her husband, have the first dance with him, and here all the words of congratulations. It was the same at Ivriniel's own wedding, yet everyone had a good reason to be happy. She and Losdir had been in love. What was there between Finduilas and Lord Denethor? A political marriage? What else? Titles, money, new clothes, and a change of residence.

The dream still haunted Ivriniel, and it would until the end of her days. She had records of her dreams; a record she would refuse to show anyone. She would leave her journal in her will to Imrahil; he would be the only one to understand, and she would not want Finduilas worrying over it; she had enough to fret over already.

So what was it all for? What had her life been? She had lost her husband far too soon after their marriage before any of their hopes and dreams could be put to reality; her unborn child was taken from her in one tragic night. She was watching her mother live in physical pain for the ailment she was suffering from, and it was no secret that it would not be long before she too was gone from this life. And now... now Finduilas was to be taken from her. The one support in her heartbroken life; the light in her dark world that kept her going; who sat by her side every day and most of the nights just to make sure she was well taken care of and had the comfort she needed. Was all this misery worth it? Had she done something to deserve it? It was a question that Ivriniel would long seek out until the last of her days.

Then End

**Author's Note:**

> For those who do not know, Pinnath Gelin is an actual place in Gondor. It is north of Anfalas, up in the grasslands. Lord Hirluin is an actual character created by Tolkien. He fought in the defense of Minas Tirith during the war, and sadly did not survive.


End file.
